


You Are Gold

by smallumbrella



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Frottage, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Recreational Drug Use, canon adjacent?, don't worry the angst is short lived, the abuse is a memory and not depicted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallumbrella/pseuds/smallumbrella
Summary: Because it’s not just being loved that makes one whole, but allowing oneself to love in return.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 103
Kudos: 317





	You Are Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This runs between S3.9 through S4.2. I have obviously effed with the timeline.  
> In my head canon David is not at all comfortable with what happened with Sebastien in 3.10  
> This has been betaed by a lovely human but I have a tendency to poke at it afterwards so if you spot errors they are all mine. Missgeevious is a glowing light that I'm grateful to have shine on me. 
> 
> [playlist for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aLdxVKEupTRydaipSFHMf?si=)

“Oh, I’m gonna get the money.”

Patrick’s voice, saying those words, may be the most provocative thing David has ever heard. And that’s saying something. David is still off balance from when Patrick said _I’m not here for your sister._ Then this? _I’m gonna get the money?_ Like, he might rob a bank to make it happen, like a goddamn doe-eyed criminal? A deep thrill runs through him.

David has exactly zero words with which to reply. A quick fantasy breezes through his mind: Patrick, dressed in all black, a ski mask over his face, pulling off some complicated heist. A bag emblazoned with a dollar sign in each hand. Tight pants too. Definitely tight black pants. Maybe no shirt.

When he gets his focus back, David manages to whisper, “Okay.”

Right after Patrick says those surprisingly suggestive words, and without breaking eye contact, he takes the parts of the credit card machine right out of David’s hands. Then he gets it set up in about five minutes. David is _so_ into it.

Even after Patrick leaves, David keeps hearing it for the rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m gonna get the money.”

So fucking confident. Like, so devastatingly confident that David really, really wants to fuck Patrick now. David thought Patrick was attractive before this. David noticed his mouth before, admired his ass in those terrible jeans. But the absolute certainty in those words has elevated Patrick from someone who’s nice to look at to someone David wants to put his mouth on. It can’t hurt anything to just flirt with him, right? He decides that he’s going to start flirting with Patrick.

An opportunity to do some flirting comes up that very night, when David ends up at the Wobbly Elm with Stevie and Alexis. It’s surprisingly busy, even for a Friday night. They get settled at the table with multiple polar bear shots and toast Friday and the store and David’s business license and possible randoms. David is pleasantly buzzed when he sees Patrick walk in the door.

“Patrick!” Alexis shouts and waves.

David hisses at Alexis, “What’s he doing here?”

Alexis says, “I saw him at the cafe earlier and I invited him, David! I’m sure he could use a night away from Ray.”

David is perplexed. “Ray? What the fuck does Ray have to to with anything?”

“Ugh! He rents a room from him. God, David, don’t you listen? He talked about it when he brought you your license the other day!”

Before David can reply Patrick is there, leaning on the table with both hands and smirking at him. He’s dressed casually, in faded jeans and a snug, charcoal grey henley, with, good lord, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

He says, “I’m gonna go get a pitcher at the bar. What’s everyone drinking?”

David is just tipsy enough to think he can get away with staring openly. His gaze wanders between Patrick's bare forearms and his crotch. _Damn, those jeans! Patrick looks kind of girthy!_ David is contemplating girthiness and not listening as Stevie and Alexis tell Patrick what they want to drink.

Patrick’s voice comes from somewhere above eye level. “David?”

David thinks he hears his name, so he drags his eyes slowly away from Patrick’s arms, across the narrow V of pale skin that peeks through a few open buttons. Up that flawless, alabaster neck. David’s eyes stall on Patrick’s lips. Lips that are definitely smirking at him. Patrick says his name again and he finally snaps to attention.

“Huh?” He says dumbly.

“What are you drinking? I’m buying a round.” Patrick is looking at him in a very pointed way. David knows he’s been caught. But Patrick is blushing and damn, if it’s not the prettiest thing David has seen in a long time.

“Um, polar bear shots? Two? Please.” David hopes his own blush is not so obvious.

Patrick raps his knuckles on the table. “Got it, polar bear shots all around then.”

When he walks away, David whirls on the two women. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d be here?!”

Alexis just huffs at him, “I did, David, you just never listen!”

David glares at Stevie now, “Did you know about this?”

Stevie, of course, just deadpans, “Know about what?” She holds David’s gaze and adds, “That he’d look like that in those jeans?” David’s mouth drops open. Stevie continues, “You’re flustered.” It’s a statement, not a question.

David is very flustered. He waves his hands around and makes aggravated noises. He’s about to deny being flustered, when Patrick gets back to the table with four shot glasses in his hands and a full pitcher held against his chest with his forearm. There’s an empty beer glass tucked into his elbow.

David jumps to his feet saying, “Oh my god, let me help you!”

David reaches for the pitcher, and the back of his hand grazes an impressively firm pectoral muscle. David maybe, just maybe, slows his hand a fraction, and _maybe_ he presses it into Patrick’s chest just a teeny tiny bit as he takes hold of the pitcher. Patrick is looking in his eyes now and maybe, just maybe, he leans into David’s hand just a fraction. David’s stomach swoops. He folds his smile into his left cheek and sets the pitcher on the table. Okay then. This flirtation is _on_.

Then, as it often happens when out drinking with friends, the night does that thing where it gets louder and faster. They talk and shout over the music. They drink and laugh and toast their partnership. As the night wears on, and they’re drunk enough, they all start dancing together, all high energy and laughter. Through fast songs they dance as a group, and when the occasional slow song comes on the ladies alternate between the two men or they all sit it out.

Patrick keeps being silly during the fast songs. Doing dance moves from the nineties or dancing badly on purpose. Stevie and Alexis are laughing and mimicking Patrick’s moves. David finds it endearing but he’s also kind of impressed. There’s a lack of inhibition there that’s sort of admirable. Patrick is okay with looking silly. David wishes he knew how to do that. Alexis spoke the truth when she said that nobody cares. David wishes he could learn to live that truth.

_(Gravity by John Mayer)_

The music slows down and Stevie heads toward the restroom. David starts to follow Alexis back to the table when he feels a hand close over his wrist. His stomach dips. Patrick. David stares at Patrick’s hand on his wrist before drawing his gaze up to meet his eyes.

“Dance with me, David.” Patrick gives his wrist a light tug, his eyes are dancing. One of his pale eyebrows is up and he’s smirking. He’s _daring_ David to say no, or yes, or something. David’s stomach swoops again.

It’s not a question. It’s that type of soft command that has always done things to David. And right now, it's really doing things, so he says, “Okay.”

He says _okay_ , and he means it. David wants to dance close with Patrick. But that look in Patrick’s eye, that invitation to play, makes him want to hold still, rather than move closer. So he doesn’t move. Patrick is still holding his wrist. David squints at him and tilts his chin up, a small, challenging smile pulls his lips to one side.

Patrick pulls on his wrist gently. David gently resists. A slow grin spreads across Patrick’s face. He bites his lip and tugs again, hard, pulling David off balance. He reels him in until he crashes into Patrick’s chest. His solid body absorbs the impact without wavering and that makes David’s knees get a little weak. He just stands there solidly, not breaking eye contact. _Ffffuck_! He grabs David’s other wrist and sort of pitches both his hands over his shoulders. David threads his fingers together and lightly pulls on the back of Patrick’s neck. Patrick puts his hands firmly on David’s waist. They stare defiantly at each other for a moment. David is trying not to pant. This is so hot. This is so so hot.

Patrick’s eyes begin to crinkle and he tips his head back and laughs, a bright, joyful sound. He says, “Goddamn, you’re fun, David!”

David can’t help it, he laughs too. Patrick slides his arm around David’s lower back and swings him in a half circle, pulling him closer. Their eyes and smiles are softer now. Their faces are so close. David can smell Patrick’s shampoo and the beer on his breath and who knew that could be so enticing? Patrick glances at David’s lips and his smile falters.

What happens next, happens in slow motion.

A commotion at the bar pulls David’s attention. Patrick, Alexis and Stevie all turn in that direction. Then it gets loud. Patrick has released him and they’re both moving now. There's a shout and suddenly a man tumbles backwards away from the bar and lands fully on their table, knocking it over. Stevie and Alexis leap to their feet. Stevie stumbles back and loses her balance. Patrick is already there and he puts his hands on her back to keep her from falling. David pulls Alexis away by her waist as the bar erupts into chaos.

They leave the bar right away. They are full of adrenaline as they tumble out into the night, laughing and chattering away. They stand in the parking lot for twenty minutes, repeating the story to each other and assessing their ability to drive home. As they talk, David steals glances at Patrick. God, he’s beautiful. Flushed and excited, talking with his hands. A few times, David catches him looking back at him.

Finally, they wind down enough to say good night. Patrick walks to his car, parked a couple of spaces away. David lingers by the passenger side of Stevie’s car, watching him go. When Patrick gets to his car he looks up at David and waves shyly. _Oh god, he’s so cute_. David waves back and gets in the car.

Later, David is laying in bed scrolling on his phone. He’s still keyed up. Even though it was interrupted, dancing with Patrick had been so good. He can’t remember ever being with someone who was so naturally sexy and so _playful_ , and it’s a very compelling combination. David can’t stop smiling. His phone pings and he bites his lip. He opens his text messages hoping to see Patrick’s name.

(12:57am) Sebastien Raine: See you soon lover.

David grimaces and whispers, “Ew, God!” into the darkened room.

He deletes the message and blocks Seb’s number. That has to be a mistake right? He hasn’t heard from Sebastien in years. It was most certainly an accident. Gross. David shudders. He puts his phone down and pulls the blankets up to his chin and falls asleep thinking of the way Patrick looked at his mouth.

When David wakes up he reaches for his phone. He squints at it and sees he has a text from Patrick. He pulls the covers over his head and opens the text.

(7:05am) P. Brewer: I had fun with you last night

(10:15am) D. Rose: Me too *winky face emoji*

(10:18am) P. Brewer: *heart eyes emoji*

Hiding under the covers where no one can see, David smiles so hard. He showers and gets ready for the day. Taking extra time because he knows he’ll see Patrick. He’s giddy wondering how the day will play out. He cannot wait to see what happens next.

He’s almost ready to leave for the store, when he hears his mom in the next room.

She sings, “Family, I’ve got exciting news!”

***

(12:13pm) P. Brewer: I just went by the store. ???

(12:15pm) D. Rose: I won’t be at the store today. Family emergency.

(12:17pm) P. Brewer: Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Will you be there tomorrow?

(12:18pm) D. Rose: Probably.

Sebastien fucking Raine. When David gets past the initial shock, it feels sort of exciting at first. He feels like a double agent, seducing the cruel villain to get the memory card from his camera. But being with Sebastien, kissing him and fucking him, triggered a kaliediscope of David’s old issues. The way Sebastien said the ugliest things in the most intimate voice compressed David into his smallest self. _You look so— healthy. I liked you better when you were desperate, David. I missed your mouth._ His words, his familiar carelessness, drilled into David’s chest, making him feel vacant, insubstantial.

When he said that he missed his mouth, David countered with, “Sure, my mouth. Not me as a person…” and Seb had said with a low chuckle, kissing his neck while he spoke, “David, you were barely a person when we were together, there was nothing to you. You were just _for_ me.” Then he’d rolled David over and roughly entered him, making sounds that David used to live for. David pressed his face into the pillow and tried to think of nothing.

David takes a very long shower the morning after that. He wants to sleep for days and considers not even going to the store. He feels hollowed out, with only the hard pebbles of Sebastien’s words rattling around inside. He tries to remember if this was how he had always felt after sex with Sebastien. He hates that he used to allow himself to be treated this way, allowing anything for crumbs of approval. He’s shocked by how little he used to care about himself. He feels a modicum of comfort knowing he wants more for himself now.

David thinks that being in this town surrounded by odd but fundamentally good people has changed him. That rebuilding his relationship with his family has given him depth and self worth. That his idea for his precious store that’s becoming real has helped him find some confidence. His store. His beautiful store. David knows it’ll be soothing to stock shelves and arrange products, so he gets dressed and goes to work.

Patrick comes by later that morning. He’s like sunshine coming through the door and David, very briefly, wonders what it’d be like to throw himself at him. It would be glorious to cleanse his grimy spirit with the purity that is Patrick. The thought is fleeting though, he doesn’t have an ounce of energy to give. Besides, Patrick is a sweetheart and his business partner, and if they’re going to fuck, it shouldn’t be because David is using him to wash the taste of Sebastien fucking Raine out of his mouth.

Also, Patrick notices right away that something is wrong with him, and somehow, seems to care.

“Are you alright David? Did your family emergency turn out okay?” Patrick asks, clear concern in his eyes.

David’s own family didn’t notice that he was feeling fragile today. Moira even knows what he did, and she’s just relieved that he did it. Honestly, David knows she's grateful, but she doesn’t recognize the toll it’s taken on him and that hurts the most– that he sacrificed a part of himself for her and she doesn’t see his pain. He’s fiercely proud that he helped Moira and he doesn’t even feel bad for using sex to do it. It’s that it wasn’t just sex. It was sex with someone who considers him disposable. It’s the clarion echo of his past self that feels so crushing.

David answers Patrick without meeting his eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m ok, I’m just tired.”

Patrick studies him from across the table where they’re unpacking hand cream. He just makes a sound, a hum, in response to David’s fairly obvious lie. David can feel his eyes on him. He knows that Patrick doesn’t believe him. He sighs.

Then Patrick says, “Listen, I’m going to go to the Café and grab us something to eat, ok? Why don’t you go take a break in the back and I’ll come back with lunch.”

David pushes back, but only a little, saying, “God Patrick, there’s so much to do before we open. I can’t take a break.”

Patrick walks over and leans his hip on the table next to him. He just says “David,” and waits until David finally makes eye contact with him. Then he says softly, “You’ve been working non-stop for weeks.You’re worn out. I’m here. We have time.” Patrick reaches out and puts his hand on David’s forearm. “Come on.”

God. _I’m here. We have time. We._ How does he do that? How does Patrick say such quiet truths that go off like bombs in David’s body?

David presses his lips together, and nods. Patrick pats his arm and makes a satisfied sound. David lets out a breath as soon as he’s out the door. His eyes prickle with tears. The combination of his exhaustion and Patrick’s attention makes him feel as fragile as spun glass. If people in his past ever noticed David’s feelings at all, it was just to tell him that he’s too much. He was told so often and so emphatically that David believes it. He is too needy, too dramatic, a crybaby, too much work, and definitely not worth the effort.

David clears his throat. He’s not going to cry. He can’t let Patrick see him cry. David doesn’t want to be too much work for Patrick. They’d had so much fun together the other night. Patrick thought he was fun. He has to pull it together. He goes to the back and sits on the dingy old couch that the previous owners left behind. He takes slow, deep breaths and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. He’s not going to cry.

By the time Patrick gets back, David feels more in control of his emotions. At least for now. It’s nice to just sit for a minute. He feels weirdly nervous about Patrick's efforts. He likes it. He likes it and wants it, wants more of it and it’s the wanting more that makes him want to jump out of his skin. So he moves to get up. He wants to help Patrick set out the food, or get napkins or something. He wants to be not too much work.

Patrick stops him with an upraised hand and a very soft, “I got it.”

David feels the ache of tears in his throat and swallows it down. He watches Patrick with a guarded sort of wonder as he _tends_ to him. He sets his drink on the coffee table in front of him, and hands him a take out box with a thick turkey sandwich and pile of hot fries inside. David breathes and keeps his eyes on him while Patrick sits beside him, folding one leg under him on the couch, mirroring David’s position, their knees touching. With every breath David feels a little restored by Patrick’s soothing concern. He thinks Patrick is talking to him right now but he’s not hearing anything. David notices that Patrick starts to eat so he finally digs into his own lunch.

Patrick swallows and says “So, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.” He looks at his lunch and continues, “And not just for business stuff, David.”

David feels a tiny jolt of electricity at that last, but just mumbles, “Thank you,” into his sandwich.

He’s ravenous. It hits him that he's had nothing to eat since breakfast yesterday. He’s been so spun up about Sebastien that he forgot to eat. That reminds him of their time together too. He’d been completely obsessed with making himself whatever Seb wanted. He’d just forget to eat anything nourishing for days. He’d forget himself in a haze of drugs and rough sex and longing for the rare moments when Seb made him feel beautiful.

Back then, he was gaunt and angular. Seb said he loved it because it seemed like David was barely there. He liked to say that David was the embodiment of an existential crisis. Seb called him exquisitely intangible. He celebrated David’s not-there-ness with poetic words that corroded David’s soul. It’s why he indulges his appetite so freely now. He feels he owes it to himself. Owes it to his poor body, that’s been through so much.

They finish eating in comfortable silence. David sets his empty box on the table and heaves a deep sigh. He feels better. A wave of gratitude washes over him. Patrick cares enough to see him. To help him. To feed him. That part feels important. Like Patrick won’t let him forget himself. This is in such stark contrast to what he felt with Seb that it makes his head spin.

Before David thinks about it, he lays a hand on Patrick’s knee and says “Thank you, Patrick, this was just what I needed. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” David hears Patrick’s soft inhalation at his touch.

David wishes he had better words. The emptiness that David was feeling is beginning to feel not quite so bottomless. It’s like Patrick is just pouring himself into David, replenishing him. Fuck. David wants to touch him more. He wants to press _thank you_ into Patrick’s skin with his tongue.

Then Patrick puts his hand over David’s. They both contemplate their hands for a long minute. Patrick finally drags his eyes away and looks at David. He says, “You’re welcome. I’m— I’m here for you.” Then he starts to take his hand away. David catches it and holds it against his knee. Patrick does that soft inhale again.

David is looking into Patrick’s eyes now and they’re so clearly full of, something, that David wants to tell him everything. More than anything, he just wants to let it out, let Patrick take it. He wants to put his broken pieces into Patrick’s hands just to see what he does with them.

David is surprised how calm he sounds when he starts talking. “My ex was here. He’s this famous New York photographer. He tried to take advantage of my Mom. He lied to her, took pictures of her. He was going to sell them. He was making fun of her. I— I fucked him to get the memory card out of his camera because he’s a monster who uses—” David’s breath hitches “—people. He was trying to use her the way he used to use me and I wasn’t—” his breath hitches again and his voice grows thick “—I wasn’t going to let that happen. I didn’t let it happen. It was fucked up. It was so fucked up.”

David’s lower lip quivers then so he bites down on it and looks away. Tears are blurring his vision. David half expects Patrick to tear his hand away and leave because David is disgusting and manipulative but when he looks back at him, there’s no judgement. Patrick’s open expression shows only concern.

That face, that expression, is too much to take. Something cracks open in David’s chest and his voice quavers, “It was so-o fucked up, it— it reminded me of who I used to be with him, desperate, manipulative and em-empty. I hated myself. I’m not— It was—” his voice catches in his throat.

Patrick had his arm along the back of the couch and he leans towards him now, sliding his arm forward and putting his hand on David’s shoulder. David closes his eyes and a single tear courses down his cheek. He leans in, just a fraction, and Patrick surrounds him. He wraps his arms around David and pulls him close, whispering, “C’mere. You’re not those things, David. You’re so good, you’re not those things.”

David leans into Patrick’s embrace. He presses his forehead into Patrick’s shoulder and though he tries to stop it, a sob escapes his throat. Patrick pets him, he strokes his hair and neck and rubs his back and doesn’t say another word. David feels a vast, warm space opening up for him and he lets go.

David cries. His body shakes with it but he's quiet. The only sound comes when the sobs have punched all the air out of him and he draws in a ragged breath.

He cries for all of it. He’s bone tired and so empty and it’s too familiar. He cries for the person he was when he allowed Sebastien’s casual cruelty. He cries for Sebastien’s predatory ability to seek out Moira’s vulnerability. He cries because her pathetic desperation to be seen mirrors his own.

David is so sad for her and it scares him to see her so weak. It angers him that she’s so weak. Because of her weakness he had to _fuck_ Sebastien to save her! He sacrificed his own dignity, this delicate thing that he’s started to find in himself, for the return of his mother’s. David is _so fucking mad._ He’s mad at Sebastien for his fucking audacity, mad at his mother for not knowing how Seb hurt him, mad at himself for ever thinking that Seb loved him or even liked him. David is deeply, fiercely angry.

David didn’t realize just how angry he is. He grips Patrick’s shoulders and pushes him back but doesn’t let go. He doesn’t notice that Patrick’s face is flushed or that his eyes are shining with tears.

David digs his fingers into Patrick’s shoulders and shakes him once. Then through gritted teeth he growls, “He was trying to hurt my mother,” _shake_ “MY fucking MOM! He was taking advantage of her weakness.” _shake_ “He’s so fucking disgusting!” David is fully shaking Patrick now. Patrick just holds his forearms and lets him. “And I FUCKED him. I got the CARD AND DESTROYED IT! I HAD TO FUCK HIM! I’M SO FUCKING MAD, PATRICK!!”

When David yells Patrick’s name he realizes what he’s doing. He’s _yelling_. He’s _shaking_ Patrick. David freezes. He notices the tears on Patrick’s face and gasps. Patrick _still_ isn’t running away. Patrick is here, crying with him, holding him gently by the arms, allowing David to shout in his face and shake his body just to make David feel better. And there’s still no judgement in his face. Just this soft open concern. _How is he even real?_ David takes Patrick’s face in both hands and thumbs over his tear streaked cheeks.

“Patrick,” David whispers, shocked, reverent, terrified.

“David.” Patrick’s voice is rough.

David lunges forward and kisses him.

Patrick makes a surprised sound and goes still. David pulls back and they stare at each other, wide-eyed. David opens his mouth to apologize and Patrick sways forward, eyes on David’s mouth. Then he’s kissing David, full and sweet, clutching David’s shoulders. Patrick whimpers once and the sound undoes David. He responds by pressing his tongue into Patrick’s mouth. Patrick groans and surges forward, pushing David over and landing on top of him. Patrick’s hand cradles David's head as he lands on his back. David’s hands grip and graze over Patrick’s back and shoulders and run though his short hair.

Patrick pulls out of the kiss and they gaze, mouths open in surprise, at each other. He makes a deep sound in his chest before going for David’s neck, kissing, and nuzzling under his jaw. David turns his head to give him better access. Patrick tentatively touches his tongue under David’s ear, then sucks at the sensitive skin.

“Oh, my god!'' David arches his back and groans.

He slides his hands down Patrick’s back. They rest in the sweet dip of his lower back just as it curves into his ass. David pauses for a second pressing in, then runs his hands over Patrick’s ass. Patrick makes a high sound in his throat. David’s mind goes offline. He grips Patrick’s ass and thrusts his hips up. Patrick presses back against him and they groan together. David can feel Patrick’s erection against his own.

David’s brain is all thick fog and soft colors. Maybe he can just fuck Patrick right now. His sweetness could so easily erase all the ugliness of the past twenty-four hours. Patrick feels amazing on top of him. He’s heavy and warm and wanting. It’s so delicious that David could just get lost in it. It would feel so good to get lost in it.

David pulls Patrick’s shirt out of his jeans and slides his hands up his bare back. God, his skin is so soft and smooth. David wants to mark that skin, scratch long lines in it.

Patrick is kissing him again and, god, he kisses so well and he makes David feel so good and so seen and he could almost cry again but nobody wants to fuck a crier. So he kisses Patrick, sloppy and aggressive, and he nips his lower lip and he’s just starting to move his hands between them to go for his belt buckle when Patrick pushes himself up off of David.

“David, wait.” But then he leans down and kisses him again, like he can’t help it. Then he pulls back. “Wait, David. Ok? I shouldn’t have— we have to stop.”

He’s flushed and breathing hard. His eyes are lust-blown but he’s moving away from David. Sitting up, pulling on David’s arms to get him to sit up too.

David is confused. “What, why, what’s wrong?”

Patrick says, “Fuck David, I’m— I’m so sorry. I want— Fuck!” He’s blushing and stammering and looks a little stunned.

Patrick still has his hands on David’s arms. He’s flustered but still not running away. David’s brain is coming back online and all the shit that was burying his heart has been lifted away. He’s not mad anymore. He’s not mad or sad or anything. He’s grateful. He’s grateful that Patrick allowed him to let go. Allowed him to be dramatic and clingy and needy and a crybaby. Then he let him kiss him and touch him and all of it was so good. Patrick _let him_ , and he’s still here. _He’s still fucking here._

Patrick says, “I— you— I don’t—” He takes one deep breath and another. “We can’t do this right now, yet, because…” He pauses and looks down.

David feels a little awestruck at the man in front of him. Patrick could say anything, do anything and David would allow it. Patrick is so good. David wants to give him anything he needs.

David’s words come out in a flood. “Because…? You can tell me anything. Okay? You just— you just let me yell at you. You let me shake you! I’m sorry for shaking you, Patrick!”

Patrick takes one more steadying breath and looks back up, meeting David’s eyes. “No, don’t apologize for that, it’s not that. Um. You’re just, uh, David, you’re vulnerable right now. I can’t. Do things. With you right now. I’m— I’m sorry I kissed you and... Look, it feels like I’m taking advantage of you. I won’t do that. I’d be no better than your ex. I like you David. So much. And I want you. But not now, not like this.”

David is so shocked by this that his head rocks back on his neck. “Oh my god, Patrick, you could never be like him, you’re like, you’re like the polar opposite of him. You’re so, you’re so... good…” David can’t believe that Patrick could make that comparison. The two men didn’t even exist on the same plane.

“There’s one other thing.” Patrick is blushing now.

“What is it?” _Anything. Anything is okay._

Patrick clears his throat and says, “Uh, that’s the first time I’ve ever done that, with a guy.” He looks away and covers his face with both hands.

David’s eyebrows are practically up to his hairline and his mouth is hanging open in surprise. There was nothing hesitant or reserved about Patrick or what he did with his mouth and his body. Nothing at all like someone who’d never done that with a guy before.

David is a little glad Patrick can’t see his reaction. He’s horrified by his own actions. He kissed him, like, aggressively, without knowing that he’d never been kissed by a man before! But Patrick had said _I like you so much and I want you._ They had danced and flirted before! So maybe it was okay? David’s brain struggles to catch up.

David peels Patrick’s hands away from his face. Patrick keeps his eyes closed. His cheeks are flaming. David's voice is kind when he says, “Patrick, look at me please?”

“Do I have to?” Patrick’s eyes are still closed but David can see a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, please.” David is smiling now too because Patrick smiling is a good, good thing. Patrick is darling. Adorable. Gorgeous. David wants to eat him alive.

Patrick squeezes his eyes tighter, then opens them. He inhales sharply when he looks at David. David, who is still flushed with lust, his half hard cock still mounding up his jeans, his lips wet and a little kiss-bruised, his hair a bit disheveled.

“Fuck, David, I can hardly look at you right now. You look. You’re so. My god.”

Patrick looks away from him and David is so conflicted. It’s not like this is easy for him. Patrick’s skin had been so sweet under his hands and his cock felt so thick. But he still feels kind of ill knowing he crossed a boundary and needs to say something about that. David looks away too.

David says, “Um, Patrick, I want to say I’m sorry for stealing your first kiss and letting it get so, um, heated. That was really fucked up of me. I am clearly a fucked up, broken person. I’m broken and I lost control in so many ways just now. I am so, so sorry.”

Patrick looks at him incredulously. “Oh god, David please don’t say that, you didn’t steal— I’ve been fantas— uh, hoping— I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you! Seriously. I was going to kiss you the other night, when we danced! And, David, it’s not like I’m completely innocent here. You kissed me first, but then I—I came after you...” There is a long pause and then he says softly, “And as for being broken? Everybody is broken, David. It’s the human condition.”

The thought sparks in David. Everybody is broken? David tucks it away to ponder later.

They fall quiet for a while, just looking anywhere but at each other, and trying to gather their senses. They end up saying, “Thank you,” at exactly the same time and they both laugh softly.

David says, “I want to say thank you for letting me, letting me…” David takes a breath. He has to look away from Patrick’s eyes to continue. “Thank you for letting me cry. And be angry. I didn’t know I was that fucking angry, Patrick. I’m so sorry I shook you. Thank you for letting me. Just...letting me.”

Patrick says, “Um, you’re welcome. I mean that. You have every right to be angry. I hope talking about it helped.”

David smiles ruefully and says, “It did help to get it out. You don’t think I’m gross for what I did?”

Almost before he’s finished the sentence Patrick barks, “Fuck no. Fuck. No. I don’t think you’re gross or any of that stuff you said about yourself. You’re. You’re...” Patrick pauses and rearranges his face. “I want to thank you. You let me hold you and kiss you and, my god, David,” he closes his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, “I’m sorry I got carried away. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have after everything you said...”

David says softly, “Don’t be sorry, Patrick. I'm the one who started it.”

Patrick opens his eyes again and covers the hand on his chest with his other hand and, god, how he looks so fucking sexy and so incredibly earnest at the same time is beyond David.

“Most of all, you let me see you, David. Really see you. You let me be here for you. My god it’s— that was everything. And you’re my first — It was. It—”

Patrick’s face is wide open. He’s blushing again and so flustered that he can’t complete a sentence, and he’s so damn beautiful that David wants to drag him back on top of him, but he holds himself still. The energy in the room is jangly and weird. David wants to bring them back to earth but he’s not sure how.

“So we’ve established that we’re both super sorry…” David says, a small smile pushes his lips to one side.

Patrick smiles back, his eyes soft, and says, “Yep, both sorry, both—okay? You’re okay after talking—?” His chin tilts down and he looks up from under his brows, a quizzical look that charms David.

David looks up and around like he’s looking inside his head for damage, “I’m—I’m really okay, I think. You okay? I mean, maybe you have kind of a lot to process?”

“I don’t know, I’m—I think I’m good. All that,” Patrick gestures between them, “kind of validated everything I’ve been feeling.” He smiles shyly.

“So. You’ve never done any of that with a guy before?” David’s tone is playfully skeptical.

“No. Never. Any of that.” Patrick looks at the ceiling and says quietly, “It’s a story for another time.”

David thinks, _noted_ , and says, “Okay.”

Patrick continues,“Yeah, I’ve thought about it, obviously. I’ve thought about it. A lot. More since I met you. Like, non-stop since I met you.”

David lifts an eyebrow and whispers, “Well. You’re really good at it.”

A tremor shivers through Patrick’s whole body. “Jesus, David. You can’t say things like that to me.”

Tenderness blooms in David’s chest. He’s had so many lovers in his life. He thought nothing could surprise him. Patrick surprises him. Patrick feels like something new and different. Patrick feels like something real and true and wholesome. Patrick feels like possibilities.

David knows he shouldn’t think about possibilities with Patrick right now. He’s had high emotions for two days. He knows he needs to clear his head. The whole roller coaster of exhaustion, grief, anger, gratitude and lust has scraped David clean. He knows he needs time to process all of it.

Patrick stands up so quickly that David jerks back and gasps. Patrick’s hands are curled into fists. “Is your ex still in town?” He sounds murderous.

David is a little taken aback and strangely thrilled. He says, “No, no he left this morning.”

Patrick releases his breath and his fists and sits back down. “Okay. So. Like, killing him right now isn’t an option.”

David smiles tentatively and says, “Nope, not an option.” Then he adds, teasingly, “Not right now.”

Patrick looks at him, his expression a strange combination of sheepish and fierce and says, “Maybe another time then.”

David feels a swoony crash of feelings roll over him. Patrick wants to defend him. It feels big, too big, when combined with all the rest. It feels like the last straw in a way. It’s so unbearably hot and sweet he can barely wrap his mind around any of it. He puts his elbows on his knees and rubs his face with both hands. His heart is beating, beating, beating, so hard, so fast.

The man was on his feet with murder in his eyes. For David. The reservoir of his heart, completely empty this morning, is brimming now, with too many unnameable things. Overflowing. The good, warm feeling in his chest is turning hot and expanding fast, and he wants to scream and laugh and fuck and fly apart. David is overcome. He suddenly recognizes that he’s been on the edge of a panic attack since he left Sebastien’s room. He starts taking long slow breaths.

His body is vibrating with the too-muchness of it all and something has to happen soon or— or David doesn’t know. _Breathe_. All he can think of is taking Patrick apart and Patrick is sitting too dangerously close.

David’s voice is rough when he says, “Okay, we should probably get out of here. If I sit here with you any longer I can’t be held responsible for…” _Breathe_.

Patrick stands and holds his hand out to help David off the couch. He says, “Yeah, let's get back to work. Unless you want to go home or something? Whatever you need, David.”

 _Whatever you need, David_ , reverberates through his body.The energy in the room changes dramatically and David suddenly feels drunk. Patrick is standing right in front of him. Close. David is still sitting down, so he’s at eye level with— his face is at the same level as, as Patrick’s—

He blinks slowly up at Patrick. He’s literally afraid to take his hand, even just to stand up. David doesn’t trust himself to touch him at all. David can almost see himself reaching out for Patrick’s belt. It’s so clear. He’d grab his hips and pull him so he stands between David’s knees. He can almost taste his cock, feel it, heavy and hot, on his lips, on his tongue, down his throat. He can almost hear the gorgeous sounds Patrick would make. He looks up at Patrick with hooded, lustful eyes and Patrick’s face goes slack with desire.

“Patrick,” David’s voice is hoarse. “You should probably go.”

“David. I.” Patrick stands transfixed, unwilling or unable to move.

David’s voice is dark and slow. “Truly, Patrick. I— I’m feeling too much right now. I don’t— I don’t always know how— there’s too much I want. You may not— You’re not ready…”

David’s eyes flicker down to Patrick’s crotch and his mouth waters because Patrick is gorgeously hard. His erection lewdly strains at his jeans. David closes his eyes and makes a sound in his throat and unconsciously licks his lips. When he opens his eyes, he sees Patrick’s hands are shaking. David quickly stands up.

Patrick gasps and stumbles back a step. “You’re right, David. I’ll go. But, god,” air gusts out of his lungs, “I want...”

There’s a tremor in David’s voice when he answers, “I know. I know Patrick, I want— too. Just.”

Patrick struggles to control his voice. He says, “Just not yet.”

“Right.” David says. He is working to stay put. God, he doesn’t want to fuck this up. Patrick’s eyes are dark, his lips are wet and his body is so tantalizingly close, David can smell him. He squeezes his eyes closed and whispers, “Please, Patrick, you really should—”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go.”

David stands for a moment, squeezing his eyes closed. He feels suspended in time. He feels so raw and cleaned out. His brain has gone offline. He can barely feel the edges of his body. The only thing he feels is his rock hard cock throbbing in his jeans.

Patrick is out of the room when David opens his eyes. As soon as he hears the front door close he opens his pants, shoves them down his hips and starts stroking himself. He leans his other hand against the desk. His head drops between his shoulders as he works his cock. It doesn’t even enter his mind that it’s the middle of the day and the door isn’t locked. It takes less than a dozen strokes and David comes in his hand, gasping and gritting his teeth.

He cleans up quickly and gets his pants closed. He walks trance-like through the store and locks the front door. He grabs one of the alpaca throws from a box on the table and heads to the back room, turning off all the lights as he goes. David wraps himself in the throw and lays down on the faded couch and falls almost instantly asleep.

_David is lying on his belly. He’s eight years old and Adelina is rubbing his back. He’s been running a high fever for days and she hasn’t left his side. He feels better now though. His headache is gone and his body no longer feels heavy and hot. He rolls over and stretches and feels Adelina’s hand on his forehead._

_Her voice seems far away, “Garoto doce, you feel better yes?”_

_"Much better yeah, I feel good.” His own voice sounds weirdly adult._

_“_ _I’m so glad. You’re a good boy, you deserve good. You deserve boa vida David. Você merece ser amado do jeito que ama.”_

 _She pats his shoulder and moves away from him._ _David heaves a happy sigh. He feels safe and loved and just so much better. He hears a soft pinging sound coming from another room._

David opens his eyes in the half dark of the back room. He takes a deep breath and stretches his arms over his head. His mind feels quiet and his body is relaxed. It’s not a feeling he gets to enjoy very often so he stays where he is, staring at the ceiling and blissfully not thinking about anything. He vaguely remembers that he dreamed of Adelina, she said something in Portuguese. It was so nice. He wishes he could remember more.

His phone pings again and he reaches for it a little reluctantly. David searches his mind and body for anxiety and the low key vibration that’s usually there seems to be missing. At least for now. He steels himself and picks up his phone. The first thing he notices is the time. He’d been asleep for almost 3 hours. The second thing he notices is that he has seven texts. All from Patrick.

(2:00pm) P. Brewer: Hey, I hope you’re ok. Text me if you need anything.

(2:05pm) P. Brewer: I enjoyed our time together today

(2:05pm) P. Brewer: That sounded weird. I know it was intense.

(2:06pm) P. Brewer: Today meant something to me.

(2:45pm) P. Brewer: When can I see you again?

(4:10pm) P. Brewer: I’m sorry you probably need some space.

(4:12pm) P. Brewer: I hope you’re ok.

(4:15pm) D. Rose: Hi

(4:15pm) P. Brewer: Hi are you ok?

(4:16pm) D. Rose: I took a nap so yes, I’m much better

(4:16pm) D. Rose: Thank you for asking

David watches the dots in the text box come and go and come and go and come and go for so long that David thinks Patrick is writing something huge. It’s making him feel a little nervous. Finally the phone pings.

(4:18pm) P. Brewer: I’m glad you feel better. Huh. David wonders what else he wanted to say.

(4:19pm) D. Rose: Are you coming to the store tomorrow?

(4:20pm) P. Brewer: Do you want me to?

(4:20pm) D. Rose: I want you to if you want to

(4:21pm) P. Brewer: I want to

(4:21pm) D. Rose: Good

(4:22pm) D. Rose: See you tomorrow Patrick

(4:23pm) P. Brewer: See you David *double heart emoji*

David smiles at the emoji.

It’s just past midnight and David is having a hard time falling asleep. Turns out, a three hour nap in the afternoon isn’t a great idea. His anxiety, which had been relatively silent since he woke up, is starting to buzz.

What is Patrick thinking right now? David had admitted a really gross thing about himself and then kissed him! Like some random pervert! And holy fuck it was his first experience with a man! And it’d been intense! Like, really intense, and god, a lot further than David would have allowed had he known Patrick had zero experience. Then he chased him off because he was too worked up to control himself!

His anxiety ping ponged. What will happen tomorrow? Patrick will quit! Or Patrick will be mad at David for kissing him after all the yelling and shaking. Fuck, who does that? Patrick said he didn’t mind but if he thinks about it he’ll see that David is a fucked up mess of a person and will want to distance himself.

In between worries is the soft focus memory of Patrick kissing him. The feel of his warm, heavy body on top of him, thrusting against him. David has to shoo these thoughts away. Alexis is five feet away. He can’t do anything about his poor dick that perks up the minute he lets his mind linger there. It’s another hour before he finally falls asleep.

*

David is applying labels to jars of hand cream when Patrick comes in the door. David sets down the jar he’s holding and takes in the sight of him. Patrick’s button down is cobalt blue. He’s gorgeous. He looks like he slept well. David wonders if he jerked off before bed and has to shake his head to get rid of that picture. _I mean, Christ, he’s right there!_ David holds on to the edge of the table so he won’t launch himself at the man.

David manages to say good morning without sounding like a freak. A good start for David.

Patrick smiles shyly and says “Good morning, David.”

They stand awkwardly in silence. David’s anxiety is starting to ramp up. Should he go touch Patrick? Hug him? Kiss his cheek? He really, really wants to but Patrick is standing there looking just as unsure as David feels.

“Um.” David starts. His eyes shift around the room, finally landing back on Patrick. “Are you okay?”

“Oh” Patrick sort of startles. “Yeah, yes, I’m good David. I’m really good. Are you? Okay?”

“I’m good too. I’m glad you’re good.” David starts to move toward him. Slowly, as if afraid he’ll bolt.

Patrick visibly relaxes. He smiles and meets David halfway. They stand still for a moment and finally David puts a hand on Patrick’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. When he draws back, Patrick’s cheeks are pink and his eyes are shining.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Patrick. I was worried that you’d have regrets or be mad at me for…”

“Regrets? No, no. God, no, David, no regrets and not mad at all. Why would I be mad?”

“Um. Because I yelled in your face. I shook you. I cried all over you then I kissed you. I. I was— Patrick, I was _messy_. Like, all over you. Then I chased you off like a crazy person. I’d be mad!”

“You weren’t messy David. You’d had a messy day. You were just getting it out and then you needed some time to process everything. I’m— I’m honored that you allowed me to be there for you.”

“You’re honored.” David breathes.

David doesn’t know what to say. How on earth can he share space with Patrick when he talks like that? How does he do that? David presses his lips together and hopes he’ll say more.

“Honestly, yeah, I am honored. What you did indicates a level of trust— it means something to me. It means. It means the world to me.” Patrick breathes a minute and continues. “And, David. Mad at you for kissing me? We talked about this...” Patrick is blushing and starting to stammer a little. “ Um, I— that was.” He takes a steadying breath and looks David in the eye. “It was the best kiss of my life. It felt like my first time. All the things you’re supposed to feel, I felt them. I’m sorry I got carried away, you’re just so— I shouldn’t have pushed you— laid on— did the—'' Patrick gestures at his hips and flusters himself further. He steps back now, looking down, rubbing the back of his neck.

David is so charmed. And a little turned on. Patrick is such a gorgeous juxtaposition. The confidence of his hands, his body, his mouth yesterday contrast so boldly with this blushing inexperienced boy in front of him now. He watches as Patrick pulls himself together. It’s adorable. He literally squares his shoulders, rolls his head on his neck, then jams his hands in his pockets.

Patrick says “Um, I’d like to take you out to dinner. Tonight, if you’re free.”

David could swoon but to cover that, he starts to sass. “Oh? So you want to…”

Patrick doesn’t let the sass happen and finishes for him “Date you. I want to take you on a date, David. I want to date you, and go a little slower than what we did… yesterday.”

At the mention of _yesterday,_ Patrick’s composure starts to fray at the edges. David’s knees are going all wobbly so he has to change the energy by being sassy.

David cocks an eyebrow and says “Oh, well, then yes, I am open to entertaining your, dinner, offer…” He hopes Patrick will remember the conversation.

Patrick lights up. “Great. And uh, in the interest of us potentially eating together I do want to come clean about something.”

David could die. God, Patrick was fun. David says, “Okay.” A tiny frown, a quirk of the lips.

Patrick crowds into David’s space and holds him by the shoulders and says, “What I wanted to come clean about back then, is that I am really, _really_ into you.”

Then he kisses him on the mouth. Brief, but warm and full. He pulls back and smiles like a demon at David.

David smiles, surprised. “Wait, you were into me then?”

“Yup.” Patrick, all cocky. He backs David into a table. _Uh, hell yeah._

David says, “I started, um, being, interested, that day too. _I’m gonna get the money._ Jesus Christ Patrick.” David smiles big and doesn’t hide it.

Patrick just beams at him. David wants to keep playing, so he says, “Oh and, uh, you do know that if I have other plans…”

“Oh I’m gonna get you to change ‘em.” Patrick answers.

He holds David by the hips this time and kisses him again. Soft, feathery kisses, talking at the same time, “I was” _kiss_ “into you” _kiss_ “the moment I saw you” _kiss_ “at Ray’s.” _Kiss._ It’s incredibly sweet and incredibly sexy at the same time.

Patrick moves away from him and takes the last two jars of hand cream out of the box David was working with. He sets them on the table and then punches through the bottom of the box and folds it flat while he walks toward the back to store it. David’s eyes are bright and his mouth is open in surprise. Oh, my god. This. This is going to be really fucking something.

*****

“It’s almost as if you want me to get the lice.”

“I don’t want you to get it. I just think you should be careful, you can crash at my place tonight if you need to.”

David’s heart staggers in his chest. Stevie is making faces and gesturing behind Patrick’s back and David wants to fucking murder her.

“Thank you. Um, but Stevie offered her place this morning so…”

They’ve only been on two dates. The first one was at the Café, after which Patrick drove David back to the motel and opened the car door for him. David had gotten out and leaned against the car. Patrick stood nervously in front of him, shifting his weight from foot to foot until finally David just reached out and took his hand. Patrick came to him then and kissed him beautifully but was careful not to press against him. He was still flushed in the face when he left a few minutes later.

The second date had been a pizza place in Elmdale that had checkered tablecloths and candles on the table.They had good wine, too. David was driving so Patrick had two glasses. That was a good night. They talked easily and played their sass games and flirted outrageously. David drove Patrick back to Ray’s and they stayed in the car and kissed for a good fifteen minutes before Patrick forced himself to go. Slightly buzzed Patrick had spent quite some time feeling David’s stubble with one hand and his chest with the other, while they kissed. David was into it.

In between those dates, the days at the store had been filled with flirting and intense, but entirely too short, make outs in the back. David starts relaxing into the knowledge that Patrick actually likes him. And Patrick is becoming more and more comfortable with David and himself. It was all very delicious

After Stevie leaves, David and Patrick are putting the body milk on the shelves. Or actually, Patrick is unloading them from the box and David is shelving them because Patrick doesn’t “understand the aesthetic.”

“So, Patrick, did you really mean to invite me to spend the night at Ray’s with you or…?”

“Yeah, that was a little impulsive, I know, but… yeah, you can stay with me if you want to.” Patrick was actively regulating his breathing. So cute.

David is reaching up to put jars and the shelf and purposely keeps his back to Patrick when he says, “That’s not really slow—” And he _knows_ Patrick is looking at his ass.

He is definitely looking at David’s ass. “I know!” Patrick huffs, “We wouldn't have to do anything David.”

David turns around and leans against the table next to him. He bumps shoulders with Patrick and says, “No, you’re right. That’s true. But it might be safer if I stayed with Stevie this time, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Offer stays open though.” Patrick keeps his eyes on the box.

David bumps him again and says, kind of low and breathy, “Thank you, Patrick, that’s sweet of you.”

 _Sweet. For fuck’s sake_. No way in hell can David be in a bed. Next to Patrick. And not touch him. David has been in full crush mode since they started dating. All of it is working for him. Going slow. Spending so much time together at the store. Their increasing closeness, and Patrick’s lovely, genuine goodness, is making him extraordinarily hot.

David thinks about him all the time. Everything about Patrick is sexy to David. His thick forearms, his sturdy shoulders. His thighs and ass? Good god, it looked like he’d been pushing a plow through a cornfield for the past decade. The icing on this piece of cake is that Patrick is funny, quick, and so smart. Who knew _capable_ would be such a fucking aphrodisiac?

David and Stevie are three vodka shots in when he starts talking about Patrick.

“I never told you how we started…” David is hesitant. He's not used to sharing things but he really wants to tell Stevie. She’s his first real friend. And that intense time in the back room felt monumental to David.

Stevie just cocks an eyebrow at him and says, “Go on,” in a drawn out, suggestive way.

“It’s not like that. Well. I mean. It _is_ like that but it’s mostly not. It was kind of. Big. For me.”

Stevie shakes her head in mock shock, “BIG for you? Come on David, spill it.”

He tells her about the day after Sebastien. He tells her everything. Well, not everything everything. He tells her how cared for he felt when Patrick fed him. He tells her about the high emotion, the crying and shaking, about Patrick being so solidly there for him. He tells her about the kissing and that it got “a little heated” but not about the grinding. He tells her he almost had a panic attack. But he definitely doesn’t tell her he jerked off in the back room in broad daylight with the front door unlocked. Jesus, what was he thinking?

“Then, I had a nice dream that I can’t remember and I woke up to seven sweet texts from him. He asked me to dinner the next day.”

“Damn, David. That is really intense. So you’re trying to go slow after that? Don’t think I don’t know what ‘heated' means. How do you go from that, to, I don’t know, just holding hands?!”

David buries his face in his hands and shakes his head violently. “IT'S SO HARD! I just wanna fucking maul— What the fuck is that?!”

There’s a woman’s voice yelling in the hallway outside Stevie’s apartment and a baby wailing. Then a loud pounding on Stevie’s door.

***

David stands outside, leaning against the door of Stevie’s apartment building. When Bree came in the door, screaming into a phone, squalling baby in her arms, Stevie had looked at him so apologetically that he wasn’t even mad. He’d grabbed his bag and left, planning on walking back to the motel. Maybe he’ll sleep in the love room, _ugh_ , to avoid Alexis and her filthy bugs.

But when he gets outside it’s fully dark and David’s afraid of bears, and coyotes and Roland or chupacabras or whatever haunts these streets after dark. David is also a little buzzed. Shit. Now what? He’s far from being able to use drunk texting as an excuse but he takes out his phone anyway.

(10:45pm) D. Rose: Brewer R u awake?

(10:47pm) P. Brewer: Brewer? And yes, I’m awake

(10:47pm) P. Brewer: Did the lice follow you to Stevies?

(10:48pm) D. Rose: Nope different parasite Stevies cousin Breeee

(10:48pm) D. Rose: Gonna walk to motl but is dark out

(10:49pm) P. Brewer: Little drunk are you David?

(10:49pm) D. Rose: Only a little vodkas I dont like dark Patrkc

(10:50pm) P .Brewer: Stay put, I’ll come get you and take you home

Patrick pulls up in a suspiciously short amount of time. He jumps out of the car and hurries to David. When he reaches him, he kisses David’s cheek and, in one smooth motion, takes his bag from his hand, and puts an arm around his waist to guide him to the car.

“Patrick, I’m just a little buzzed, I’m not gonna black out or anything!”

“Hm, you may have sounded a little worse for wear over text.”

“How could I sound like anything over text, you can’t hear texting, Patrick.” David loves to sass Patrick. It’s his very favorite thing.

Patrick gives his waist a squeeze and opens the car door for him.

When he gets behind the wheel he says, “Okay, maybe I should have known you were alright. You did spell parasite correctly but you managed to misspell motel and my name so... Plus you called me Brewer, which is a first, and I was thrown off.”

Patrick buckles himself in and starts the car.

“Okay. So where—?” Patrick is facing toward the windshield but his eyes are looking almost to the roof. He’s kind of squinting.

“Um, you’d said you’d take me home so I assumed the motel—what…?”

Patrick was blushing and pressing his lips together. “Um I was hoping you meant _my_ home, Ray’s.” Patrick ducks his head and puts the car in gear and heads in the direction of the motel.

 _Dammit!_ Buzzed David should not be given this kind of opportunity. Spending the night with Patrick completely sober would be really pushing the bounds of his self-restraint. Happily buzzed David is handsy and likes to kiss a bunch so it’d be a colossally bad idea to get into a bed with Patrick now.

David groans, “Uuugghhhh as much as _I’d like to get into bed with you, Patrick,_ I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m not drunk, but I’m not completely sober either and I, and I…”

In his head, slightly sober David is admonishing slightly tipsy David because he emphasized those words, on purpose, to put a picture in Patrick’s head. See? Buzzy David is a flirtatious scoundrel who cannot be trusted.

Patrick is nodding his head, that definitely has a picture in it. “N-no you’re right. I was just being, I don’t know, hopeful, I guess. I just— I just really like being close to you.”

“I know. I like being close to you, too. I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to, um, calibrate, um, how I express how much I like it and ruin. This. Everything.”

David chooses his words carefully. Trying to avoid the picture that, _won’t keep my hands off of you_ , would provide. It’s in _his_ head though. Goddamn.

“I don’t think you could ruin anything, David. But I get what you’re saying.” Reasonable Patrick knows what’s reasonable. David thinks it’s so hot.

David can tell Patrick wants to say more. He kind of wishes he would say more, say more to convince him to spend the night. It all feels deliciously perilous.

They pull up to the motel and Patrick turns to him. David leans in for a kiss. Patrick cups his cheek and kisses him sweetly at first, then licks at his lips. David opens up with a small sound in his throat. It’s sweet and sexy and David could do this for hours but he pulls away and looks forlornly at the motel.

Patrick asks him “So, do you have another shower cap to protect you from the lice?”

David blanches, “Ugh, I am not sleeping in that room with her. I’m going to brave the love room, as horrifying as that sounds. Besides, _I have hair on my body_ ,” Another picture for Patrick’s mind. “I’d need a scuba suit or something.”

“I, uh, I, uh, I’m—” Picture delivered! “I’m sorry, the _love room_?”

“Yeah, it’s a gross, unused room where Stevie lets me store clothes.”

“Why is it called the love room, though?”

“Ugh, red satin bedding, mirror on the ceiling, a fucking disco ball of all things.”

Patrick is nonplussed. “You’re making this up.”

“I’m not. I swear. I’ll prove it. Come and see.”

They climb out of the car and David unlocks the love room door. He pauses before he opens it and looks at Patrick.“You sure you want to see this? It can’t be unseen, you know.”

“Knowing your propensity for exaggeration, I think I can handle it.”

“My propens—ugh!” David rolls his eyes and pushes the door open with a flourish.

It lacks the drama David wishes for because the lights are out, so he reaches around the door jam and flicks on the lights. Just the overhead comes on, though. The disco ball switch is on the other wall. The grim, yellowish lighting makes the otherwise ridiculous room look creepy as hell. Racks of clothing crowd one side of the bed. The shade on the bedside lamp is askew.

“Oh. Ew. David, this is creepy…” Patrick is grimacing.

“Oh, just wait.” David crosses the room and turns on the disco ball.

“Oh my god, this is a nightmare David. Are you sure…”

His words are cut off by a shriek from David as a fat bug with a milky exoskeleton trundles across the floor. Before Patrick even blinks, David is out the door.

David is ten feet away and pointing into the room, eyes closed. “Can you, can you turn off the ball? I can’t go in there.”

Patrick goes in and turns off the ball and the overhead light. He pulls the door closed behind him and faces David who is still shuddering with revulsion.

“Okay, listen, David. Come home with me. I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. You can’t stay here. I can’t let you stay here.”

All David can do is agree at this point. The vodka is wearing off. It’s late. He’s tired and even sleeping in Patrick’s bed alone would be a thrill so he sighs and agrees.

*

Patrick sets David’s bag on the chair in his room and turns to him. His voice barely shakes at all when he says, “You can use the bathroom first if you like. I’ll change in here while you do.”

When Patrick comes out after his turn in the bathroom, he stops in the doorway for a moment to say good night. David is lying, very pointedly, on one side of the bed. David can feel heat high on his cheekbones. Patrick’s face is so open. The poor boy can’t hide a thing that he’s feeling. It makes David feel a little squirmy inside.

Patrick sighs and sounds resigned when he says, “Okay, I’m going to go downstairs, so good night?”

David looks at him. He’s not buzzed anymore, he can control himself, right? David just reaches out and puts his hand on the empty side of the bed. “Patrick, it’s cold down there and that couch looks terrible. I think we’ll be okay, don’t you?”

Then Patrick does that thing he does when he’s preparing himself. He squares his shoulders and rolls his head on his neck slightly. He takes a breath, turns off the light and climbs into bed beside David.

They lay stiffly side by side in silence until David can’t take it any longer. “Okay, you’re right. This is weird.”

He’s gratified to hear Patrick laugh. Patrick says, “I can sleep down on the couch, it’s fine.” He doesn’t move.

“You don’t have to go. I mean, unless this makes you too uncomfortable, Patrick, I don’t want that.”

“No, I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just— nervous. And I feel foolish for being nervous. And I feel foolish that I haven’t known ‘til now. I wasted so much time.” Patrick puts his hands over his face.

David turns on his side to face Patrick. There’s soft moonlight filtering through the blinds and he can see him, all broad shoulders and muscled forearms but so vulnerable. Something in his chest clenches at the sight. God, this man is doing things to him.

David reaches out tentatively and pulls at one of Patrick’s hands. Patrick lets him take his hand, drops his other hand from his face, and turns on his side to face David. They keep their hands together.

“Patrick. You’re not foolish. Everyone has a different timetable and, and you’re here now. Don’t waste any more time lamenting what you didn’t do and be here now...you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I am here. I am.” God, he’s so beautiful, so soft and open.

“And, I’m— It’s okay, to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

Patrick looks doubtful. “Yeah?”

David smiles at him in the dark. “Of course I am. I’m, like, in bed with a really hot guy that I like…”

Patrick gives a small smile and says, “Yeah, me too. That's exactly why I’m nervous. Well, that and I’ve never been in bed with a man before.”

“Oh that!” David says flippantly but smiles softly.

“Yeah, that.” Patrick barely whispers.

“Look, Patrick, I know I crossed a boundary the first time I kissed you and I promise I won’t touch you.”

Patrick says, “But I want—” and his whole body sort of squirms. Patrick takes a breath. “--you to touch me, and I want to touch...can I touch you?”

“Y-yeah.”

Patrick doesn’t move to touch him so David rolls onto his back and waits. Patrick puts a hand on David’s bicep, he squeezes it gently. He skims his hand up David’s shoulder and across his chest and down his belly. David’s breath is already growing short. He tries to take long deep breaths to stay calm but Patrick’s exploration, though tame, is completely, volcanically hot.

For several long minutes, Patrick’s hand roves all over David’s torso. He finally trails his fingers back down his arm and grips his hand and says, “Will you kiss me?”

David rolls toward him and says, “Yes, of course I’ll—”

His words are cut off by Patrick’s soft lips on his. Their clenched hands are trapped between them. Nothing else is touching. David tries to control his breathing. Patrick’s tongue touches David’s lips and he opens for him. Patrick slides his tongue into David’s mouth. It’s torturously slow, languid, lazy kissing and David can’t think. He wants very much to be gentle and go slow and give Patrick whatever he needs but, oh my god, can the man kiss! His lips are soft and firm. His mouth is relaxed but not sloppy. He has a generous tongue that chases and teases David’s. It all goes, all goes, all goes, straight through David’s body.

He pushes his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, who groans and opens wider for David. Patrick puts his free hand on David’s face, sliding it back until he’s cupping the side of his head, fingers kneading into the back of his neck, his thumb grazing that intimate spot just in front of David’s ear.

David pulls his hand free from between them and runs it under Patrick’s arm and over his ribs. He starts to pull him closer but stops. He pulls back from the kiss and asks, “Can we get closer?”

Patrick answers by scooting closer and nudging David’s chest until he’s on his back again. Patrick stops and asks, “Is this okay?”

That tenderness warms David’s chest again. Patrick is only partially on him, just half of their chests are touching. Their lower bodies feel miles apart. It’s so tame and so hot at the same time.

“Yep, very, very okay.” The moonlight is right in Patrick’s eyes now and he’s so beautiful it makes David’s heart hurt. He murmurs “Do you know how beautiful you are, Patrick?”

Patrick’s face goes on a little journey. He says, “I’ve been called cute and ‘boy next door,’ but no one has ever called me beautiful before.”

David’s eyes crinkle with his smile. “Did you like it?”

“I think I like everything you say to me, David.”

Then they’re kissing again. David has both hands free now that he’s on his back and he wraps his arms around Patrick. The slow, lazy kissing grows more urgent as Patrick lets his hand roam over David’s chest and stomach. David runs his hands down Patrick’s back, then up under his t-shirt pausing only to make an inquiring noise, to which Patrick makes an affirmative hum and then reaches his hand under David’s t-shirt. He stops dead.

Patrick stops kissing David’s neck and just presses his face there. He draws quick shallow breaths, his hand frozen on David’s belly. David turns his face and kisses his temple.

“You can, Patrick. You can touch me, it’s ok.”

“Y-yeah, thank you, I… It’s just...you, your…”

“It’s the hair, yeah?”

“Oh god, yeah, I…”

Patrick suddenly rucks up David’s t-shirt and puts his face into his belly, inhaling deeply. David’s breath catches in his throat and he inadvertently moans. He’s been trying to keep a lid on the noises but Patrick’s mouth is hot on his skin now. He’s licking and kissing and, oh fuck, nipping his way up David’s torso. Patrick pushes David’s t-shirt all the way up to his neck and puts his mouth on his nipple, soft and open at first. His tongue just swirls around the areola. Then he sucks the soft flesh into his mouth and lets his teeth catch on the nipple.

David arches into it and moans, “Oooh, yesssss.”

Patrick makes a growling noise and pushes off of David, pulling himself up to sitting on his heels, he plucks at David’s t-shirt once, asking, “Take this off?” And then strips off his own.

David arches up to take off his shirt and before it’s even off his head Patrick’s weight falls back on him. He’s almost fully on top of him now. Their bare chests are pressed together. Patrick has one leg over David’s. David can feel his erection against his hip. He flings his shirt off and his arms fall around Patrick’s broad back. All the sweet smooth skin of him, the muscles of him, the smell of him, feels like a drug in David’s system. And now Patrick is at his neck again and he’s nuzzling and kissing all soft and sexy. Then he sharply bites the tendon at the back of his neck. Right where it meets his shoulder and, fuck, it’s like being struck by lightning and it makes David thrust involuntarily. Patrick responds by driving his erection into the side of David’s hip. David rolls into him, seeking friction and finding it. They kiss and grind and then Patrick goes very, very still.

David’s eyes fly open. He whispers, “Hey. Patrick, are you okay? This is too fast, I know. We should stop. We should stop.”

Patrick rolls away from him and lays, panting, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah, we probably should, but…”

David tries to hide the sound of his heavy breathing. Patrick looks like a celestial being right now. His face flushed, visible even in the low light. The gorgeous pale skin of his chest and shoulders glowing in the moonlight, rising and falling with quickened breath. David has to look away. He looks at the ceiling too. Keeping his eyes there, he slides his hand across the bed until it finds Patrick’s. They entwine their fingers. David lifts their hands an inch and then presses it back down, trying to gauge how he’s doing.

David does that a few times, then finally just asks, “How’re you doing?”

Patrick blows out a breath and says, “I’m good. Frustrated as fuck! I’m okay. I’m. I know we should stop. But—”

David’s brain is threatening to short circuit. ‘Frustrated as fuck’ sounds like the problem he’s having too and Patrick said we should stop BUT.

David asks, “But what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Patrick’s voice is strained.

David speaks to the ceiling. “Okay, you don’t sound happy right now and we can’t have that so I want you to hear me right now, Patrick, are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“We like each other, right?”

“Yes, very much. I like you very much.”

“I like you very much too, Patrick. And I want you to feel safe and comfortable, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Remember that day in the back room? I yelled, I cried, I shook you and then I attacked you and you were there for me. You were there for me. I’m here for you, too. So I want you to know that you can say anything to me. Anything. About what you like, what you don’t like, what scares you, what you need from me. Right here and now, and anytime at all. I’m here for you."

“O-Okay.”

“So we can stop right now or not. You can tell me what you wanted to say or don’t. But just know I’m not going to judge you or make you feel embarrassed okay? Not about this. Ever.”

When Patrick doesn’t respond, David says, “Patrick, will you look at me?” Patrick turns his head on the pillow and meets David’s eyes. “This is new for me too, okay? We’re in this together.” It’s a simple statement, but the tension in Patrick starts to evaporate.

Patrick looks at the ceiling again and says in a rush “We should stop but I really want to— god, I’ve been thinking about something, something I want.”

“Yeah?” David keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

Patrick breathes, “God, David I really want to see you come.”

David can feel Patrick’s hand wanting to come up and cover his face so he holds it down and smiles. He tries to keep his voice steady. “I’d like to see you, too. I’d like that, for both of us.”

Patrick’s inhale is so sharp it squeaks. He lies there sipping shallow breaths. David knows he can make it easy for Patrick. They can do this together and David can show him it doesn’t have to be anything but simple.

“Okay, Patrick, I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

David gets out of bed and retrieves a small bottle of lube from his bag. When he gets back in the bed he pulls the covers up to their waists. They’re laying side by side on their backs, heads turned towards each other.

“What’s your idea?” Patrick’s voice is high and breathy and David shivers in response.

“Um, if you give me your hand I’ll put some lube in it and you can touch yourself. And I can do the same. To myself. We can jerk off together, just like this. Not touching each other. But we’ll see each other… or we can stay covered like this. Whatever you want.”

Patrick's breath is shuddering in and out and he swallows hard. “O-okay but— Can I, can I see all of you?”

“You can see me, Patrick. Can I see you?”

“Yuh.”

David kicks the covers down to the end of the bed. He takes a deep breath and pulls his sleep pants down to his knees. His erection slaps against his belly. Patrick whimpers and follows David’s example, pulling his sleep pants down.

David inhales loudly through his nose. Because Patrick’s hard cock is a sight to behold. Respectable length, cut, gorgeously thick with a slight upward curve. David’s mouth waters but he squeezes his eyes shut for a minute and forces himself to focus.

David murmurs, “Hand.”

Patrick holds his hand out and David gives him a dollop of lube and then some for himself. David turns his head on the pillow to look at Patrick and Patrick is just staring at David’s dick, transfixed. He bites his lip when David wraps his hand around himself. When David starts slowly stroking, Patrick’s mouth falls open. He quickly grips his own cock and then looks at David’s face.

“You… okay… Patrick?” David’s voice is hitching on each stroke.

Patrick breathes, “Da-vid, y-eah. O-okay.”

“I like your cock, Patrick.”

Patrick’s eyes roll up and flutter closed. He groans. “I like your— cock—”

David can’t decide where to look. Patrick’s face is a mask of pleasure, but his hand on his dick is so fucking hot.

David breathes out, “Pretend that’s my hand on you.”

“Oh god da— mmm, my hand on y-ou.” Patrick’s breath is ragged.

“I’d like that Patrick. I like your hands.”

“Your hands, your hands.” Patrick's eyes are open again and he’s watching David’s hand on his cock, his eyes huge and dark.

Patrick’s stroking faster now and David knows he won’t last too much longer so he just goes for it.

“Your cock is so gorgeous, Patrick, I can’t wait to get my mouth on it.” Patrick groans and his hips snap forward. “Would you like that?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, I want, that, I want, I—” Patrick is taking quick, short breaths, panting, so close.

David breathes out, “I want you to come on me, wanna come on me right now, Patrick?”

Patrick yelps softly, and moans, “Yesyesfuckyes.”

David scoots closer and turns on his side, moving so their hips are aligned. Patrick turns on his side too. They’re sharing a pillow, and Patrick tips his head back a little so they can look at each other. They’re sharing breath, eyes locked together for a long moment. Then Patrick’s looks from David’s eyes to his cock and back and he’s fucking into his hand and David is mesmerized by the sight of the fat head of his cock popping in and out of his fist. David is matching Patrick’s pace now and is so close.

“Come on me Patrick, c-come for me, gorgeous, you’re so beautiful like this, come for me, Patrick.”

Patrick’s hand is moving faster and faster, his mouth open, a steady “uh, uh, uh…” punching out of him.

David is so close. He whispers “Come on my cock, Patrick.”

Patrick throws back his head and lets loose a long shuddering moan as his hips thrust and thrust again and once more as he shoots hot ribbons on David’s cock and belly.

David makes a guttural sound in his throat at the sight of Patrick’s come on his cock and he grits out, “Patrick, look at me.”

“Yeah— David— do it.” Patrick rasps and David comes. Hard. Patrick moans with David, watching his face contort with pleasure, watching David’s come paint his belly.

When the world slowly swims back into focus David is on his back and Patrick’s face is pressed against the side of his neck, they’re both catching their breath. David turns his face and kisses Patrick’s temple and he responds by tilting up his face and kissing David. Wet and languorous. Patrick pulls away and looks at David with heavy lidded eyes.

“David, my god, you’re gorgeous, David, I never…thank you.” Patrick sounds drugged and bone deep satisfied.

David smiles softly at him, taken aback by the ‘there-ness’ of Patrick. There's no panic here. No rushing off to clean up even though it did really need to happen soon. Patrick is fully present and savoring the intimacy. Looking at David like he hung the moon. And between the mighty orgasm and that look. Well. David _feels_ like he hung the moon.

“God, Patrick, thank you. You’re— you’re amazing. You’re fucking amazing.” David leans in and they kiss for a minute but trying to keep their sticky hands off of each other is difficult, so he says, “We need to clean up, yeah?”

“Yeah, we do.” And with that, Patrick gets out of bed, shucks his pants right off, and goes to get a couple of wash clothes. _Goddamn._ Patrick's body confidence makes David shiver.

David has the great pleasure of watching naked Patrick walk across the room, disappear out the door. When he comes back in, David gasps softly and says, “Stop. Stay there.”

Patrick stops. “W-why?”

“You look. Just.” David just admires him for a moment.

Patrick looks like a work of art. The moonlight through the blinds paints bars of light and shadow across his body from his shoulders down to the tops of his thighs. The man looks dropped from the heavens. It’s really kind of obnoxious how this subtle looking, button down, spreadsheet nerd can be so preternaturally sexy. It’s not right. Patrick moves again and hands him a warm washcloth.

David says, “You. Are. Breathtaking.”

Patrick is still standing, wiping his belly and cock. He smiles shyly at David and looks down. “David,” is all he says. David bets he’s blushing.

David huffs, “Okay, you can’t look _like that_ , and walk around _like that_ and then be all shy when I tell you you’re beautiful. It doesn’t track.” Then David’s eyes go wide with shock and he whisper-yells “Patrick! RAY!? We were loud! You walked out there naked!” He can’t believe they forgot about fucking Ray!

Patrick chuckles at David’s rising panic. “It’s okay! He’s in Elmdale for the night. He had a date.”

David blows out a relieved gust of air. “Oh, my god. Okay. I was freaking out there for a second.” He pats his chest to calm his heart. Then he tilts his head and squints an eye at Patrick. “Sooo, you invited me here because you knew Ray would be gone?”

“No. I invited you here to save you from the lice.” He waggles his nonexistent eyebrows at David who snorts and rolls his eyes.

After checking that his sleep pants aren’t sticky Patrick slips them on and climbs back in bed. He takes the cloth from David’s hand and throws them both across the room and lands them, effortlessly, in the hamper. He asks, “Did your pants get it? I can give you something to wear…”

“They’re good. We got it, um, mostly on each other.” David pulls up his pants, his smile quirks and his eyebrows dance.

Patrick breathes, “My god, David. That was. You are. Goddamn. I can’t even…”

They snuggle close. Whispering and kissing softly before falling heavily asleep.

****

The store has been open for exactly one week. They have both been highly charged with the store’s success and each other. David is currently pressing Patrick up against the wall of the back room. Ever since David spent the night at Patrick’s they’ve had very little time to connect and they’re both feeling a little desperate.

“God. David. Mmm. You feel so good.” Patrick’s hands are on David’s ass, squeezing and pulling him in and grinding into him and, god, it’s good. David is just going for the buttons on Patrick’s shirt when the bell on the door rings.

“Goddammit!” groans David. He pulls out of Patrick’s embrace and smooths his hair and fusses with his sweater. He holds his arms out and looks questioningly to Patrick. “Okay?”

Patrick, looking lusty and disheveled, bites his lip and grins at him. “You’re good, you can go.”

David glares at him and presses his palm against his dick to make it go down faster. He pulls his sweater down over it and calls out, “Be right with you!” toward the door. He hisses at Patrick, “You’re a menace.” He kisses him and goes through the curtain.

By the time Patrick comes out, David is deep in conversation with the customer about what skin care regimen would work best for her skin type. Patrick catches David’s eye and points to the Café, mouthing the words _I’ll get us lunch_ , then he’s out the door.

David’s customer has just left and David is excited to tell Patrick that she spent over two hundred dollars on skin care.

The phone rings and David answers happily, “Rose Apothecary, how can I help you?”

“Can I speak to Patrick Brewer please?” A woman’s voice. She sounds intense.

“Oh, Mr. Brewer isn’t in the store at the moment, would you like to leave a message?”

“Yes, I would. This is Rachel McCarthy. I’m Patrick’s fiance. Please tell him to call me back as soon as possible.”

David’s ears are ringing. He thinks he says something affirmative into the phone but he’s not sure. He hangs up and looks out the window. Patrick is just emerging from the Café with two bags. He has a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. It’s funny, David thinks, he doesn’t _look_ like a fucking liar.

Patrick is chuckling when he comes through the door. He says, “Twyla had another crazy story about one of her mom’s boyfr— David what’s wrong?” He stops dead in his tracks, turning pale at the sight of David’s expression.

David just stares at Patrick. He has no words. He feels like his skin is on fire, or frozen, or just gone, like he’s flayed open and every nerve is exposed. He can’t move, he can’t speak.

Patrick is scared now. He comes over to the counter and sets the bags down. “David what hap—”

“Rachel happened.” David snaps loudly. Patrick blinks and his head jerks back. “Your fiancée happened, she called the store. I—” David’s eyes are starting to burn. No fucking way is he going to cry in front of Patrick. “I— I have to go.” He moves out from behind the counter and heads for the door.

“David, please, wait!” Patrick chokes out. His face is white, he looks ill. “Let’s close for the day, let me tell you—”

David’s voice is icy, “Don’t you dare close the store right now. I’m going. You’re staying.” And with that he’s out the door. He makes it around the corner before the tears come.

_(Blue by Julie Dorian)_

****

David and Stevie are smoking a joint in the love room that evening. He tells her everything he knows, which is, frankly, nothing much.

“I just can’t believe I fell for this again. Fucking straight guys, out for a little gay jaunt before getting married. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. God, I'm such an idiot!"

Stevie treads carefully, “Well, for one, you’re not an idiot, David. For two, who the fuck goes into business with their gay jaunt? And three, he’s like, so into you it’s gross.”

David takes a long drag and holds it in. He passes it back to Stevie and blows out a long plume of smoke. His voice is gravel from crying and the smoke. “Don’t take his side, Stevie.”

“I’m not.” She pauses, taking two short puffs from the joint. She blows out the smoke lazily and passes it back to him. Before he takes a hit he looks at his friend. She’s so beautiful and so damaged. He knows that Stevie is broken too.

“We’re broken, huh, Stevie, you and me, we’re broken people.”

“Mmhmm, definitely. Definitely broken.”

“Patrick says everyone is broken.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“You think everybody is?”

“Yes.”

“I feel shitty about being broken. I’ve been so ridiculously privileged my whole life, I feel like, how dare I think I’m broken…” He takes a long drag and pulls it down deep in his lungs.

“See, that’s part of your brokenness, David. All that money, but a neglected spirit. You feel guilty about having so much, so you let people take from you things you can’t afford to give.”

It’s so weirdly profound. So true that David gasps and blows out a huge lungful of smoke.

There are tears in his voice when he says “Yeah. Yeah.”

Stevie says softly, “Patrick talked about being broken?”

“Yeah.” God, David misses Patrick already.

She says softly, “He’s broken too, you know?”

A barely controlled sob escapes David’s lips when he says, “I know.” He curls up on his side and Stevie puts a warm hand on his shoulder. They’re quiet for a time.

Stevie picks up the thread of their earlier conversation. “So, I’m not taking his side, but it sounds like he had something to say is all. Maybe you should let him say it.”

“I can’t even be around him right now.”

“You going to the store tomorrow?”

“Uuuuggghhh! No! I’ll text him to do it or something. Can we please stop talking about him? Let’s watch Bridget Jo—”

“We are not watching Bridget fucking Jones, David. Pick something else.”

“Fine. You pick.” David scoots up the gross red satin bed and gets a pillow behind him. Stevie sits up next to him and turns the tv to a home remodeling show they both like. David leans into Stevie’s shoulder and she nudges him in acknowledgement. He’s really grateful he has Stevie.

He texts Patrick when he gets into bed that night.

(11:23pm) D. Rose: Will you take the store tomorrow? I’m not going to come in.

(11:23pm) P. Brewer: Yes of course. Will you let me talk to you?

(11:24pm) D. Rose: Not right now.

(11:26pm) P. Brewer: Okay.

David stares at the word. He isn’t sure how a text can sound dejected, but it does. Sleep doesn’t take him for a very long time.

When David wakes up his very first thought is the same first thought he’s had every morning since they started: He thinks of Patrick, and that he gets to touch and kiss him today. But then the memory of the phone call crashes down on him and he groans, covering his head with the blankets. Staying in bed all day is a good plan of action. Alexis is clattering and fussing around the motel room and David wishes she’d hurry up and go.

“David, I know you’re awake.”

David grunts.

“Why aren’t you getting up? You have to open the store.”

“Patrick’s doing it. I’m not going in.”

“Are you sick? I told you eating all that ice cream before bed was a bad—” Alexis pauses. “Hey.”

David grunts.

“David. What happened? You got high with Stevie last night. You ate a bunch of ice cream and only did a partial skin care routine. And now you’re not going to the store.” She sits on David’s bed and he wishes she’d fall off a bridge and stop knowing him so well.

David pulls the covers off his face and says, “Patrick. Is engaged. To a woman.” Alexis’s jaw drops in shock. He throws the blanket back over his face.

“NO, he isn’t David!”

“He is. She called the store for him yesterday.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. I left.”

“David.” Alexis pauses a long time so finally David grunts at her and she continues, “David, if you left and haven’t heard what he has to say, you’re just being a drama queen. You have to hear him out.”

David knows she's right. Damn her and her emotional growth. Fuck.

“David.” Another long silence.

“WHAT?” He shouts through the blanket.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you with those big ol’ puppy eyes, David. Whatever you’re thinking right now is probably not accurate, don’t you think?” She’s poking him through the blankets.

“I don’t know.” David squeezes his eyes closed and whispers, “Maybe.”

“David.”

“Alexis, I swear to fucking GOD!”

“David, stop acting like mom when she’s mad at me, and go hear him out.” She’s up off his bed and heading towards the door.

“Can I have one day to wallow please?”

Alexis puts her hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t open it. She says, “A whole day away from that lil button face? Sounds like a wasted day to me.”

“Alexis, wait.” David does not emerge from beneath the covers. He can hear her walking to the bed. He feels her sit down next to him.

“I’m here.” She sounds so sure of herself. David is suddenly aware of how fiercely he loves her. He’s thankful for the blanket over his face.

He takes a deep breath and asks, “Do you think you’re broken?”

It takes her long enough to speak that David thinks she might not answer but she does. “Uh, yeah, in some ways I’m broken.” She pauses, then says, “Why, David?”

David breathes through the blanket. “Patrick said that everybody is broken. Do you think that’s true?”

“I’ve never really thought about it but, I guess so, yeah.”

“I’m broken, Alexis.” His throat is aching with tears again.

“I know, babe. But it’s okay, right? If we all are?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

She pats his leg and stands up. “You okay?”

“I think so. Thanks, Alexis.”

She leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.

David hears the door close and he peeks his head out of the covers. No. He does not want a whole day away from Patrick but goddamn this has triggered so many old fears. It is such a familiar story. David has been used before, for his money and his connections, and when people reached for those things they reached right through his wanting body. Most of the time he was aware of their intentions, it’s not like he didn’t use people too, back then. It seems fine when everyone is on the same page. It’d be an entertaining ride for a while. It never felt great to be left but he rarely got worked up over it. But there were a few times he hadn’t seen it coming, when he thought it was something more. The times he hadn’t realized he was being used left an indelible mark on David’s spirit.

That is why this feels particularly devastating. David hadn’t seen this coming. At all. His anxiety thrums like a swarm of wasps in his chest. He pulls the covers back over his head and burrows deep into his pillow. The tears are back and he lets them come. He falls back asleep weeping.

It’s almost noon when a knock on the door wakes him up. _Patrick_ is the first thought in his head followed by _Rachel_. David pulls himself up to sitting but doesn’t speak or move to answer the door. What if it’s Patrick? He can’t face him yet. He stays quiet.

Stevie’s voice comes through the door. “David, it’s me.”

“Come in.” David doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

Stevie comes through the door with a bag of take-out from the Café. David’s stomach growls and he makes grabby hands at the bag as Stevie sits on the edge of his bed. She hands it over and watches David dig into it.

She asks, “How’re you doing?”

“Starving, so thanks for this.” David grunts with pleasure, taking a huge bite of turkey sandwich.

“Patrick sent it over.”

David stops chewing and just looks at her.

“He knows you don’t eat when you’re stressed so he sent you food, David.” She tilts her head at him.

Goddammit. Patrick. Patrick won’t let him forget himself. Patrick _feeds_ him. David really wishes he didn’t have a mouthful of food right now. He wants to sass. He wants to be sarcastic and dismissive and an ass to keep his eyes from filling with tears. But he has to think about that stupid fucking impulse while he finishes the enormous bite he tore from the sandwich instead.

He knows it’s a protective impulse, used to deflect and deny his feelings. All of them. Not just the fear that Patrick is experimenting on him and will leave, which is huge and loud and obvious but also the pathetic hope that he could be wrong. Allowing the thought that he’s probably wrong is somehow even more frightening than being lied to.

Then there’s the desire to see Patrick, sweet broken Patrick, and hold him and kiss him and give him a safe place to land. Just like he gave David in the beginning. To let him be messy and flawed and wrong but still worth _loving_ , because if Patrick is broken and still worthy of love then maybe David is too. And just at the thought, the whisper, the possibility of _love_ causes the wasps to lift off and choke him.

When he swallows his mouthful, he stays quiet. He and Stevie just look at each other. She finally squeezes his knee through the blanket and stands up. She pauses at the door and looks back at him.

She says, “Not really the actions of a guy on a ‘gay jaunt’ you know?”

She leaves and quietly closes the door. David finishes the sandwich and all the fries. He grabs the bag and looks inside to see if any stray fries are in there and sees a big chocolate chip cookie at the bottom. David pulls it out and holds it to his chest like it’s the goddamn hope diamond because _Patrick_.

***

It’s late afternoon when David walks in the door to Rose Apothecary. Patrick is behind the counter ringing up a customer. His whole body subtly reacts to David’s presence but he keeps looking at the customer, who is commenting on his red, puffy eyes.

Patrick clears his throat as David passes behind him into the back room. He tells the customer, “It’s allergies, something must be blooming.”

David hears the bell over the door ring as the customer leaves. Patrick doesn’t come back. David waits for a few minutes, then gets up and pulls the curtain back. Patrick has both hands on the counter, his head is hung low between his shoulders. David can hear him taking deep measured breaths.

“Patrick.” Patrick turns around. He’s leaning on the counter, his hands gripping the edge so hard his fingers are turning white. His face is turned down but his eyes keep flicking up to David’s face.

Patrick chokes out, “David, please don’t make me leave until I explain.” He pulls in a ragged breath, “Please don’t make me leave, I need—” His face crumples and he covers it with both hands.

David wants to wrap his arms around him and also yell at him for crying. David is the one who should be crying! He _has_ been crying! But so has Patrick and David wants to be there for him. Whatever the outcome, David owes it to Patrick. David has to _let_ him.

He leans against the door frame and says, “Go turn the sign and lock the door. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Patrick drops his hands and without looking at David, goes to the door. David goes in the back and sits on the couch. Their couch. He really wishes there was a better place for this but this is where it’s happening.

Patrick comes through the door and stands still, as if he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to sit, much less where. David gestures to the other end of the couch and scoots himself back so he’s against the far arm of it.

Patrick sits down and rubs his face with both hands and finally meets David’s eyes.

David takes a deep breath and starts. “Patrick, are you engaged?”

“No, not any more. I left her two months ago.”

“Why did she call you her fiancée?”

“We were together a really long time. We did a lot of off and on, over and over and over. She thought it was just another ‘off’ period. She’s been texting me for weeks…”

“She’s been— you didn’t think to tell me about that?!”

“Honestly, no, I didn’t think to tell you about it. As important as she once was to me— David, what I feel for you is so monumentally bigger than what I ever felt for her.” Patrick looks away, shy and sad. “I know we haven’t been together long— haven’t talked about feelings—”

David cuts him off angrily. “Patrick, I can’t hear that right now. You can’t distract me by telling me how you fucking feel about me!”

Patrick reacts as if he’s been slapped. “What?! I’m not trying to fucking distract you, David. And I don’t have to tell you anything about how I feel, because you fucking KNOW. I know you know!”

They stare hard at each other. David knows what Patrick is talking about. He does know, he’s just too scared to look at it. He sighs and closes his eyes. “Patrick, it’s not the point…”

Patrick sighs too. He says softly, “I know, David, I know. The point is you feel like I’ve deceived you. But that wasn’t my intention. It literally never occurred to me to bring up my past because we just hadn’t gotten to those conversations yet.”

David wants to give in so bad. He wants to push Patrick down on the couch and lay on top of him and just melt into his skin. He says, “You’re right, I know. I just. I just need something more right now. I just want to understand— can you just...” He closes his eyes again and just gestures at Patrick, hoping he’ll get whatever David is trying to say.

Patrick takes a breath and begins. “Rachel and I grew up together. She was my first kiss. We got together when we were like, fifteen because everyone was getting together then. It just seemed like the thing to do. I did love her, I just didn’t know at the time it wasn’t the right kind. She was my best friend. When we were seniors in high school she threatened to break up with me if I didn’t have sex with her. So I did. I never understood what all the fuss was about. My friends acted crazy about sex. For me it was… fine.” He takes a deep breath. “Any questions so far?”

“Did any of your male friends threaten to break up with their girlfriends if they didn’t have sex with them?” David looks at him pointedly.

Patrick blinks like it’d never occurred to him. “I uh, never thought of it that way. She’s not a bad person. I knew she loved me and just wanted to do what you do with the person you love.”

“So no boys ever caught your eye?”

“Oh all the time. I just thought I was open-minded. I could admire attractive guys and even pointed them out to Rachel, who thought I was the coolest boyfriend for it. But I never knew anyone who was out. Never had any exposure to queer people, not on tv and definitely not in the town I grew up in. I feel like I never made room for the possibility because Rachel was always there. I never really considered it.”

“What happened after high school?”

“We went to different universities and our relationship was great long distance. But I would dread the visits. She’d be so, like, hungry for me and I didn’t feel the same. It was terrible. It must have been terrible for her too. After college we broke up and got back together, over and over. On and off in shorter cycles now because me of not initiating sex and her just not feeling, right, for me.” Patrick stops speaking and takes a steadying breath. “Uh, can we open a bottle of wine or something?”

“Yeah, of course, Let me...”

David moves to get up and Patrick holds out his hand and says, “No, I’ll go, I have to move or I’m going to lose my mind.”

The wasps in David’s chest were starting to quiet down. This is good. Whatever Patrick decides to do, David thinks he could maybe understand. He is still afraid to hope for anything more for himself.

Patrick returns with a bottle and two of the plastic cups leftover from opening day. He uncorks the wine and pours them both a generous amount. He’s talking before he sits back down.

“At university I did meet people who identified as queer and in that space I considered the possibility that I might be gay or bi. But I kept thinking that if I really were, I’d have known earlier you know? I felt so stupid! It felt right, but like I was too late. I felt like it would disrupt my family too much. I could hear Rachel telling me I was crazy, like, she wouldn’t believe me. So I tried to ignore it.”

He pauses and looks miserably into his cup of wine. He takes a drink and continues, “I was so broken David. I thought I wasn’t meant to have the kind of life my parents had, that everyone I knew had or was working toward. I felt so out of place. So I’d break up with her and date other women, but they never felt right either. I felt I wasn’t, wasn’t meant for this world.” His breath hitches and he takes a long drink from his cup.

David leans toward him and puts his arm across the back of the couch. His hand is close to Patrick’s shoulder and he’s dying to touch him, but he doesn’t. His voice soft with concern, “Patrick. Did you ever—”

“No I never tried to, tried to— hurt myself. It crossed my mind a few times. I thought if I could just kill my desire for… just more. I thought I could if I proposed to her. As soon as I did, it felt like something was dying inside me. It was terrible. Like any hope for really figuring myself out was just gasping and struggling to be heard.” Patrick’s voice catches in his throat. “But I was so tired of not being able to find the answer. I just accepted that I was broken. I was broken so I thought I would just have to live a broken life. It would make so many people happy, just not me. It wouldn’t be the worst life.”

Patrick finishes his wine and refills his cup. His eyes flick to David’s glass to see if he needs a refill. David takes his first sip and nods for Patrick to continue. Patrick downs half his cup in one swallow.

“It took about a month of her excitement and the flurry of wedding planning to break me for real. I packed up some of my stuff while she was at work and I went to my parents’ house. That was probably the worst day of my life, Rachel freaked out. My folks did too, but they didn’t try to talk me out of leaving her or quitting my job. I swear they must have thought I lost my mind. I felt like I was fighting for my life and I was terrified but hopeful, I was so happy to feel hope.” Patrick swallows hard. He lifts his cup to drink more wine but stops himself and puts it on the coffee table, pushing it out of reach.

“I stayed with my folks for about six weeks. Just holed up in my old bedroom trying to figure out what to do. Rachel was pissed but she thought it was the same as before, even though I told her I couldn’t ever be with her again. She thought that it was just another ‘off’ in our endless cycle of on and off. She’d call or text me every day. Alternating between berating me for being a coward and trying to win me back. I knew I had to put distance between us. I could feel myself weakening, I hated disappointing everyone. So I did a job search in places that were more than four hundred miles from my town. Ray hired me over Skype and agreed to rent me a room. The next day I was here. Three weeks later you came in the door. David, I had been single for more than two months when I met you.”

Patrick picks up his glass and drains it. He looks at David miserably. His lashes are wet and he looks exhausted. He closes his eyes then and takes a shaky breath. “Do you— Do you want me to leave?” His eyes remain closed. David’s heart breaks for him.

David’s voice is thick and graveled with tears, “I don’t want you to go, Patrick. Do you want to leave?”

Patrick’s eyes fly open. “What? No, I don’t want to leave! I thought you knew that— I don’t want to go, David, I want to be with you.” His breath is hitching fast now, “Can I still be with you?” His voice breaks high and thin.

David is still so scared. But he feels hopeful. They are both still here. Solidly here. Together in this room, in this uncomfortable, painful space, learning where the folds and fissures are in the landscape of who they are, together. Patrick helped him navigate before, David can do the same for him. His hand is still on the back of the couch. He turns it palm up and slides it toward Patrick. Patrick presses his cheek into it, he squeezes his eyes closed and grips David’s forearm. A tear courses down his cheek, then another. His breath hitches again and his face crumples.

David pulls him close. Patrick buries his face in David’s shoulder and he cries. His fear and relief and shame pour out of him and David lets him. David lets him because he can take it. He can help. He can be there for this man. Something wells up in David, something huge and fierce. He has only ever felt this protective about Alexis. He wants to keep Patrick safe. He wants to give him the same warm, safe space to land that Patrick did for him. So he makes himself as solid as he can and holds him close and strong and is there for him.

Patrick winds down. When his breathing evens out, David says, “Patrick, we’re going to take a break from talking for a minute okay? I want you to just sit here and relax, I’m going to go get us dinner from the Café and I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Okay.”

David brings him a bottle of water before he goes. “Drink all of this. Please.”

When he gets back, Patrick is coming out of the bathroom. His hairline is damp so David knows he splashed water on his face. One side of his mouth tips up in a weak smile at David and they head into the back room to eat.

David gestures for him to sit and he gets their dinner out. He sets his tea on the coffee table and gives him a box with a tuna melt and a pile of hot fries. Patrick doesn’t miss the reflection of their first time in this room. He just watches as David settles in beside him. They lock eyes for a long minute. He opens his mouth to speak but David lays a hand on his knee and nods at Patrick’s sandwich, and starts in on his own.

Patrick puts his empty box on the coffee table and leans back and sighs heavily. He says, “Thank you, David. I really needed that. I haven’t eaten all day.”

David picks up both empty boxes and puts them in the trash. He comes back and sits on the coffee table right in front of Patrick. He puts his hands on his knees and says, “Patrick, I wouldn’t have eaten all day either but you sent me lunch. You got me lunch but _you_ didn’t eat?”

“No, I felt too sick to eat.”

“Can I ask you a few questions?” Patrick swallowed hard but nodded.

“Did you call Rachel back?” Just saying her name made David’s heart jitter.

Patrick looks determined. “I did. I told her I’m gay, David. I asked her not to tell my folks because I’m not out to them yet.”

“How did she take it?”

“Terrible. She’s pissed. I mean, she's sad, but mostly angry. She kept saying I robbed her of her prime.” Patrick’s voice is thick with emotion.

“Have you been in touch with her this whole time?”

“No. Not at all. She’s reached out a few times. Mostly texting nonsense hoping I’ll text her back. She used to do it all the time. It’s how we always got back talking. But I ignored every text and deleted them.”

David tries to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Then when, and _why_ the fuck did you tell her about the store?!”

Patrick looks surprised, “David, I didn’t tell her! She follows a blogger or something on Instagram and they were apparently at the launch. They posted pictures. You and I were in one of the pictures.”

David is trying to level out his breathing. That part had been eating at him relentlessly. “And there’s no part of you that wants, wants her or—”

“No. No part of me ever wants to go back to that life. It didn’t belong to me. No matter how hard I tried with her it never felt right. And up until recently I didn’t understand why. David, I’ve spent most of my life not knowing what right is supposed to feel like. And then I met you, and everything changed. You make me feel right, David.”

The power of those words threaten David’s composure. He knows exactly the wrong and the right Patrick is talking about. He can’t even fathom that he could make someone feel right. It’s a lot. It’s so much. He closes his eyes and breathes. He inhales those words and pulls them into his body, wanting to believe them, wanting to always remember them.

Patrick asks, “Is there anything else you need to ask or say?”

“Yeah, I want to apologize.” Patrick starts to speak and David shakes his head.

“I’m sorry about how I acted Patrick. I should have stayed and heard you out right away, but hearing her call you her fiancée triggered some pretty gross responses in me. See, in the past, being some straight guy’s experiment, someone’s dirty little secret, was a thing. That happened. But. Um. So. I’m sorry for not letting you explain.”

David catches his breath at Patrick’s expression, so soft and so tortured at hearing David’s words. Patrick whispers, “You’re not an experiment, David. You’re not a dirty secret.”

David says slowly, “I think I know that, Patrick, I’m sorry—”

“Oh my god, David, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so sorry to make you feel this way.” Patrick’s eyes were starting to fill up again. “If you’ll, If you’ll let me, I’ll— I’ll do whatever it takes. To win your trust again. Will you let me, David? Will you give me a chance to show you?”

David stands up and paces the small room. Both hands on his cheeks. “Patrick, I’m so scared. I’m scared that you'll run. I’m scared you’ll change your mind. We’re so new, what if— I’m afraid of how you make me feel. You make me feel, Patrick, you make me— I’m afraid of how you make me feel. I’m afraid of how you make me feel. I’m afraid—”

Patrick is on his feet then and he blocks David’s increasingly frantic movements. David’s hands are still pressed to his face so Patrick holds his wrists and simply asks, “David, I’m afraid of how you make me feel too. But I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

David looks in his eyes. He desperately tries to see the future. He looks for fear, for rejection, for flight. He only sees Patrick. As unequivocally present as trees and mountains. He can only say what’s true right now. “I want to be with you Patrick.”

A small smile comes and goes on Patrick’s face. Then he closes his eyes and whispers. “Can I hold you?”

David slips his arms around Patrick’s neck and Patrick’s arms wrap around David’s waist and they stand that way for a long, long time.

For the next week and half they’re very sweet and very careful with one another. Moving more slowly than they had before. They press pause on their surging forward momentum. They are just quietly together most of the time. They eat most of their meals together, in a booth at the Café or in the back room during slow days at the store. They don’t rush back into the heavier and heavier make out sessions in the back. And there have been no more opportunities for nights spent alone together.

When they go out on dates, there are a lot of gentle touches and warm kisses but they express emotional intimacy rather than heat. The thing they’d built, the “us” of them was almost lost and they were fully aware that they’d created another chance together. That they’d been able to communicate and work it out together was brand new for both of them. It was an opportunity they both held as something precious.

At the end of week two David comes into the store feeling out of sorts. His family forgot his birthday. His fucking family. He tries to put on his I-don’t-give-a-shit armor but it’s too heavy. His feelings are hurt and it’s not easy to hide. He lets Patrick get it out of him.

He’s touched that Patrick wants to take him out for his birthday. It feels like something has shifted. Like they’re about to step out of the quiet phase they’re in. It feels new and exciting and David can’t wait.

In the middle of the afternoon Patrick says he needs to go help Ray with some paperwork but promises to stop and get David a coffee on his way back. David narrows his eyes at his back as he leaves the store. He thinks Patrick is lying but it feels it’s maybe birthday related? The wasps nest vibrates subtly in his chest. He presses his hand there and hums to try and calm them.

When Patrick isn’t back in an hour the wasps ramp up their activity. David wouldn’t tell Patrick his age before, so Patrick went and looked up his birth year and now his half way to his hometown, frantically speed dialing Rachel because obviously David is a petrified mummy of a person who will degrade into dust within the next few years. And good fucking Christ, how old is Patrick? He’s got such great skin, he could be twenty fucking five!

Or, or, he got hit by a car when he walked to Ray’s. And he’s lying in a ditch somewhere calling David’s name as he goes toward the light. Never mind that there’s no traffic in this town and exactly zero ditches between the store and Ray’s.

 _Or_ , Patrick ran into Jake and discovered that there are other hot men who’d be more than happy to tour guide him through the pleasures the male body can experience and provide. Jake would break his sweet button heart too. The two of them together would be crazy hot but Patrick wouldn’t survive it. Fucking Jake.

The wasps are spinning up another terrifying scenario when Patrick walks through the door with a drink tray and a bag. David coughs and thumps his chest. Fuck you, anxiety wasps.

“Hi, everything good at Ray’s?” He didn’t make finger quotes but he tried to imply it with his tone.

“Hi.” Patrick kisses David and hands him his coffee and shakes the bag at him as he walks toward the cash counter. “Got some pastries too.”

David notices he doesn’t say anything about Ray and that makes him smile. Patrick takes a sip of his tea, and sets it and the bag on the counter. He comes back to David and encircles his waist and nuzzles his cheek. He leaves a line of kisses right up to his lips then kisses him slow and full. When he pulls away he doesn’t go far, he just leans back and looks at David’s face.

The wasps have fully retreated, giving way to the butterflies. The way Patrick looks at him sometimes is too much to bear. It’s a lot. Patrick is a lot. It’s wonderful.

Patrick starts talking. And kissing him between words. It’s very distracting. “I hate to tell you this,” _kiss_ “but I tried to make reservations in Elmdale for dinner,” _kiss_ “and there was some sewer line break on the main street,” _kiss_ “and the town is practically shut down. I hope you’re ok with the Café for your birthday dinner.” _kiss_ “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it special for you.” _kiss_

David is dizzy by the time Patrick finishes speaking. It's remarkable to David, how quickly Patrick has embraced his sexuality. He seems so completely comfortable, holding David so casually, kissing him out on the shop floor in full view of the windows. David holds Patrick’s face with both hands and kisses a line from right between his eyes, down the bridge of his nose, to his lips, then his chin, then his lips again because his _lips_.

“Baby, I’ll be with you. It’ll be special.”

Patrick’s eyes go wide and a faint blush splashes across his cheeks. He’s trying to stifle a grin and says, “What did you just say?”

Oh, shit. David hadn’t meant to call him baby. They weren’t doing pet names yet. “Ummm, I said it’d be special?” He presses his lips together and he looks up and away. Patrick doesn't look upset or anything though. He looks pretty pleased about it. David wonders if Patrick will call him baby back or come up with something else. The prospect is deeply thrilling.

Patrick is nuzzling into David’s neck now and David tips his head back. It just feels so good. It seems like they hadn’t really allowed themselves to have this type of closeness for so long. Patrick runs the flat of his tongue up David’s neck and sucks the spot below his ear, before murmuring into his skin. “You called me baby, David.” His breath is hot and shivery against the wet line his tongue has left.

David hums. Then he asks the ceiling, “Did you like it?”

Patrick is sucking on his neck again but stops and says, “Oh, yes.” Then he nips sharply and pulls away. He’s flushed and he looks around the store and out the windows. “We need to stop.” But he grins and presses his hand against his crotch.

After they close and lock the shop door, David notices Patrick’s car is parked in front of the Café. “You drove back from Ray’s?”

“Yeah, I want to drive you home after our date tonight. Is that okay with you?” Sassmouth.

David smiles and frowns at the same time. “Yes, it’s okay with me.”

Patrick holds open the door for David and Twyla greets them almost immediately. “Your booth is ready for you.” She gestures toward their usual booth.

David thanks her then turns toward the table and stops in his tracks. There's a white tablecloth and two tall candle sticks on the table. David is about to turn around to say something to Patrick but he’s pressing his hand to David’s lower back and guiding him to the table.

David is fully blushing by the time they sit down. “Patrick, you didn’t have to do this!” He is so embarrassed by the gesture but he’s also secretly moved. Nobody has ever done something so sweetly corny for him before. It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect.

Patrick is a little pink too and he smiles shyly at David. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice but the sewage…”

“Well, let's not talk about sewage right now.”

Twyla comes over with a bottle of top tier wine from their store. She uncorks it, pours them each a glass and leaves them alone. David looks around the Café. About half the tables have diners seated but not one person is looking at them. They seem to be pointedly ignoring them. David is starting to feel some things. Heat has bloomed behind his sternum. His throat feels a little tight. He looks from the oblivious diners to the candles to Patrick’s sweet smile across the table.

He says softly, “Patrick, what did you do?”

“Just came in here for coffee earlier and chatted with Twyla a little bit.” She showed up at the mention of her name and took their order. No comments, no stories, nothing. Patrick must have chatted with her a great deal.

“Well, whatever you did, thank you. This is the sweetest birthday I’ve ever had.”

“You’re welcome.”

They clink their glasses together and drink. Patrick sets his glass down and fidgets. His eyes shift from the glass to David and back. He’s obviously nervous but David hasn’t a clue why. He gets the idea that maybe Stevie and Alexis are going to show up or something. He kind of hopes not. He doesn’t want a party. Right now he only wants Patrick.

Finally, Patrick clears his throat and asks, “Would you like your present now or after dinner?”

David is startled. “A present?! Patrick, you didn’t have to get me anything! All this” he waves at the table, “is already so lovely!” Patrick is just looking at him expectantly so he says, “Um, but now. I’d like my present now, please.”

Patrick reaches under the table and brings out a deep blue gift bag and sets it on the table. David’s stomach flips. “When did you…?”

“Okay, look. When I left the store, I walked to Ray’s to get my car. I asked Ray if I could borrow this stuff,” he gestures to the candles and tablecloth, “I drove to Elmdale and picked up the— thing— in there. Then I drove back here, where I dropped everything off with Twyla who was more than willing to help me out after I promised her some skin care products.”

David presses his lips together. He wants to climb across the table and kiss Patrick, maul him, do all the things to Patrick right the fuck now. But Patrick nudges the pretty bag toward him. David meets his eyes across the table and it’s possible they’re equally nervous. David can see Patrick’s hopeful concern. And David is fervently hoping the gift isn’t something tacky or corny that he'll have to pretend to love until the end of time.

David reaches into the tissue paper and feels the hard frame under his hand. Maybe it’s a new frame for the business license? Or a photo of them together or something? David doesn’t remember taking a picture like that but— then it’s out and in front of him. It’s the receipt from their very first sale and the frame is perfect and the gift is perfect. Perfect. David gasps, because in this moment, he has stepped right up to the edge of falling in love with Patrick. David can almost see it. What it’d be like to let himself fall. It’s vast and powerful and too beautiful to look at.

*

Neither of them want the night to end. They’re sitting in the car in front of the motel and they’re kissing. David’s heart feels so full. He wants to shout and sing and fuck Patrick into next week. It’s all so much. David is leaning across the console. He kisses his way down Patrick’s neck and pulls his collar aside to get at his shoulder and sweet collarbone. Patrick’s head is lolling back and his hands are restless in David’s hair.

“God, David, I want you so bad.” Patrick murmurs. He tugs on David’s hair to bring his head up and David gasps out a moan and kisses him hard. Licking into Patrick’s mouth and pressing as close as the fucking console between the fucking seats allows.

He comes up for air just long enough to say, "I want you too, I want you too.”

David drops a hand to Patrick’s thigh and squeezes. He slides it up a fraction and squeezes again. They haven't put their hands on each other _there_ yet. David is dying for it. Patrick breathes jerkily and says, “Can we, uh, go somewhere. Else?”

A thrill spirals down David’s spine. “Yeah, yes. Anywhere.”

David sits back in his seat because Patrick is already starting the car and putting it in reverse to go. Somewhere.

“Where can we go?” David asks.

“I, uh, um, I don’t know?”

Several aimless turns later they find themselves on a rural back road. Patrick pulls into a wide spot and looks at David. Hope and frustration all over his face. He says “Is this—”

David just unbuckles his seat belt and lunges across the console and kisses him. He goes for his neck again.

“Da-vid, do you think. This is. O-okay?” Patrick is already starting to breathe hard.

David pulls away from Patrick and makes himself stop. He needs to rein in his impulses right now. Because every single one of them has him ten steps ahead of anything they’ve done so far. Patrick is still new to this and David wants him to be comfortable. He wants to let Patrick decide the when, where, and how far of this.

He says, “Yeah, I think so. We made a lot of turns off the main road. What do—What do you think?”

“I, uh, I can’t think right now, David, that’s the problem, I can’t think. I just want. I just want.” Patrick pulls David back across the console and kisses him messily. When he comes up for air he says, “Can we get in the back?”

David peers back there. It’s not much better than the front but at least there’s no console. David considers clambering between the seats to get there but thinks there would be nothing at all sexy about how that would look so he just gets out of the car and then gets in the back. Patrick beats him to it.

They sit for a second just looking at each other. Patrick draws a shaky breath and pulls David into a kiss. It’s soft at first then gets messy fast.

David kneads Patrick’s pecs through his shirt and breathes into his neck, “God, your body, Patrick, you feel so good.”

Patrick’s voice is tight and he rasps, “David.”

David runs his hand down Patrick’s side, across his ribs and down the side of his hip, landing once again on his thigh. He squeezes and then moves it up a fraction and squeezes again. He’s about to ask Patrick if he can touch him _there_ , when Patrick grabs his hand and moves it to his very, very hard cock. They both gasp. Patrick’s hips stutter and he goes still, his eyes squeezed closed.

“Da-vid. I—” He presses his hand over David’s and moves it off his crotch. “I’m gonna come. Wait.” He stays still but opens his eyes. He focuses on the dome light.

David is still leaning heavily into Patrick’s side. Patrick’s arm is around David’s neck and he’s got a hand in his hair. David presses his face into his shoulder and says, “You can. You can come. I can help you. If you want that. Do you want that?”

Patrick is squeezing his eyes closed again. His grip on David’s hand is almost painful. He chokes out, “Yeah, I want. That. Yes, please, David.”

He releases David’s hand and opens his top button with one hand. They’re button-fly jeans and with a tug, the buttons purr open. Patrick hooks a thumb on one side of the waistband and David pulls on the other side. They work his jeans down his hips. Patrick’s erection is straining against his blue briefs, a wet spot darkens the tip. They pause. Patrick is panting short, quick breaths. He sounds overwhelmed.

David closes his eyes and hopes he can sound calm, “What can I do?”

Air gusts out of Patrick’s mouth, “T-touch me David, please—” Then he sharply inhales. He’s definitely overwhelmed.

David tells him, “Okay, I will, I will, I promise, c’mere.”

David puts his hand on Patrick’s chest and nuzzles his cheek until Patrick turns his face into him. David kisses him, slow and gentle, wanting to slow it down. After a few minutes Patrick’s breathing evens out.

David lets his hand roam around his chest, then slide lower, cupping his lower ribs. Patrick makes an affirming hum in David’s mouth. Now it feels like they’re in it together, rather than David just doing things to Patrick. David lets his hand drift to Patrick’s stomach.

“David, please.” Patrick whispers against his lips.

David keeps kissing him. He skims his hand over his briefs and Patrick catches his breath. David rests the full weight of his hand against him and strokes up, thumbing over the growing wet spot.

Patrick murmurs, “Oh. My God.”

David takes his hand away and Patrick whimpers but it turns to a gasp when David flattens his hand against his stomach and slides it underneath the waistband, fully enveloping Patrick’s cock in his big hand. He slowly strokes up and runs his thumb over the pearl of pre come and spreads it around the thick head. Patrick’s head lolls back on the seat and he moans softly.

It’s not enough lubrication to make it as good as David wants it to be so he withdraws his hand. Patrick picks his head up off the seat back and looks at him. “What—?”

David just looks him in the eyes and licks his palm. Patrick’s eyes get dark and he leans in and presses his mouth to the back of David’s hand, pushing his tongue between his fingers. He turns David’s hand and drags his tongue along David’s palm. David’s eyes narrow and he watches as Patrick pulls his thumb into his mouth and sucks it, flicking his tongue along the pad then going back to lick his palm again. David can’t take his eyes off of Patrick’s mouth. He finally pulls his hand away from Patrick’s extremely talented tongue and takes his cock in hand again.

They both groan.

It’s slick and slippery now, their combined spit and the impressive amount of pre come has made everything hot and wet, and Patrick’s hips are already stuttering up uncontrollably. David strokes up and down, long firm strokes. Over and over, eyes fixed on Patrick’s face.

Patrick moans high and rasping, “Oh my god, David I’m gonna— I’m gonna—”

Patrick presses his face into David’s neck and gasps his name over and over as he spills over David’s hand.

David can’t stand one more minute without something touching his dick so he unfastens his pants with his dry hand and then, using Patrick’s come as lube starts stroking himself. When Patrick comes back to earth, he puts his hand over David's and strokes with him. He leans into David’s neck and presses his tongue into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, then he bites it lightly.

Patrick whispers, “Let me, David, let me.”

He grabs David’s hand and smears their palms together to collect all the come and spit, then he knocks David’s hand away and starts working his cock. David throws his head back against the back of the seat and a rough moan rolls out of him, long and low.

Patrick’s hands are on him. Patrick, who is so incredibly sweet, Patrick, who was gonna get the money, Patrick, who held him like he loved him. Patrick who gave him a gorgeous symbol of their beginning. Patrick, who is currently sucking a mark into his shoulder and jacking his dick with surprising confidence. David is so close.

“God, Patrick I— you feel so good, I’m—I’m close, please—”

David’s hips are starting to thrust into Patrick’s fist. Then, good god, Patrick starts talking.

His voice is all gravel and rasp in David’s ear, “Yeah? You gonna come for me baby? You gonna come all over my hand? I wanna see it David, do it. Come for me.”

David comes. “Patri—, I’m com—” He thrusts and thrusts. His hips stutter once more and he goes still.

“David. David.” Patrick is murmuring into his neck. “God, David, that was amazing, I love making you come.”

The white noise starts to clear out of David’s mind and he turns his face into Patrick’s and kisses him filthily.

****

The next five days are busy and do not give them much time to connect. The store is busy every day. Then, after unpacking the cat hair scarves, Patrick has an allergy attack that lasts two days so kissing is pretty uncomfortable seeing as how he can’t breathe out of his nose. But the days are heavy with lusty gazes, roaming hands and some pretty spectacular dirty talk. David is kind of shocked at how good Patrick is at it.

The store finally has a slow day and Patrick can breathe again so David finds himself pressed up against the wall in the store room with Patrick’s hands all over him.

Patrick has his hands under David’s sweater, his face in his neck and he’s talking. “Your body is so hot, David, I wanna be inside you. I wanna taste you, wanna put my mouth on your cock, every part of you.”

“Goddamn, Patrick, how did you get so good at talking dirty? Jesus fucking Christ!” David groans and grinds against him.

Patrick chuckles into his neck and says, “You don’t really want to know that do you?”

“Well now I do!” David says and pushes him back a little bit so he can see his face.

“David, really? I don’t know—”

“Yes, really. I’m curious now because you’re being weird. Plus, it’s a little at odds with—With how, you know, you present…” He glances up at his short hair and pats at Patrick’s button down shirt. “Come on, you obviously used to do this with someone.”

Patrick looks unsure, but he says, “Okay. Remember I said that Rachel and I went to different universities, and our relationship was great long distance? Well, I got really good at talking to her while she, you know, did things. To herself—”

“So you talked her off while she masturbated?”

Patrick turns pink. “Yes.” He rolls his eyes at himself and continues, “That’s why she’d come to visit all, you know, ready to go. Then she liked it so much she wanted me to do it when we were together too.”

“That’s hot, Patrick.” David is playful, leering.

“Yeah? Frankly, I’d do anything to get her to come so I could stop touching her.” Patrick doesn’t look very happy.

“Oh, my God, Patrick, fuck. I’m sorry I didn’t mean make you think of —”

Patrick smiles softly at him and says, “Aw, you don’t have to be sorry, you just have to make me think of other things, better things.” He’s looking at David’s mouth.

David looks at him through his lashes and bites his lip. He puts his arms around Patrick and turns them around so Patrick is against the wall. Then David gets to work making Patrick think only of him.

David is sucking a mark into a very turned on Patrick’s neck when the bell over the door rings. He breathes “Fuuuuuck” against the pale pink mark. They hear Stevie’s voice say, “Ding ding!”

*

They just stare at each other after Stevie leaves with her bag of strawberries. David is pressing his lips together and Patrick looks electrified.

“So,” David begins, “you know we don’t have to do any—”

“I know, David.”

“Whatever you want is okay.”

“I know, David.” Patrick steps up to him and wraps his arms around his waist.

David plucks at his shoulders, “Yeah, I know you know, but—”

“David, look at me.” David does. “I trust you okay?”

The simple, powerful truth whooshes through David’s body. Patrick’s eyes are so warm and full of hope and vulnerability that David’s heart lurches in his chest. _Oh, my god, I think I love him. Maybe? Probably?_ That precipice he’s been standing on starts to crumble under his feet. He squeezes his eyes closed and finally whispers, “Okay.”

*

“I really am sorry about Jake and all that Patrick. I know it’s not an ideal start for tonight.”

“David, we’re locking it up, okay? I just want to think about you, us, right now.”

They are laying down on Stevie’s bed. Patrick is kissing him softly, no urgency yet, no hurry. It’s very good.

“Yeah, me too, me too.” David has something he wants to say before they start anything. “But…”

“But what?! Patrick sits up, his relaxed demeanor crumbling. “You wanna keep talking about the tall, hot guy you slept with? I’m all ears, David.” Patrick is practically pouting right now.

David sits up too. “No, I definitely don’t want to talk about any of that. I want to talk about something else.” He scoots around so they’re sitting face to face. “I want to talk about consent, Patrick.”

Patrick starts an eye roll and huffs a little and David goes dead serious. “Fucking listen. Please.”

“Oh, shit, David, yeah, of course, I’m sorry. I'm. I’m nervous. I’m trying to be cool and I’m just so. Not. I’m sorry, go ahead.”

David softens and leans in to kiss Patrick gently. “It’s okay. This is important to me. To us, Patrick, and it’s important that you hear me.”

Patrick kisses him back and then nods his head. “I’m listening.”

David takes a breath. “Okay, so. We’ve both had issues with doing things we haven’t been comfortable with in the past.” Patrick frowns at him and looks like he wants to argue. David continues, “I know the difference is that you did it within the space of a loving relationship and I did not.”

Patrick looks doubtful but willing to listen. He says, “I’m not sure I understand, but okay.”

“Patrick, Rachel threatened to break up with you if you didn’t sleep with her. Pretty much every time you— and I’m paraphrasing here— “did whatever you could to make her come so you could stop touching her” is a little under duress don’t you think?”

“I’m not a victim David. I did what I thought I was supposed to do...”

“No, I know that! That’s not what I’m saying. I’m so glad that she loved you and that you felt loved, Patrick. I’m so glad you never felt victimized but all that isn’t even the point I want to make!”

“What is your point then? Please.” Patrick is looking uncomfortable and a little irritated and that’s the last thing that David wants but this is so important he has to keep going.

“My point is that we’ve both been sort of conditioned to, sort of, go along. Rather than saying what we really want or don’t want, we just want to please our, um, partners. We’ve both put our needs aside to meet someone else’s expectations. Or, for the sake of love.”

Patrick’s face softens with understanding. “Okay, I get that.”

David is so relieved the rest comes out easy. “So I want this to be different, better. I want us to work on asking for what we want, and saying no to what we don’t. I don’t want you to ever be afraid of saying no to me. Because sometimes a yes can turn into a no right in the middle, or a past no can be something you decide you want to explore.” Patrick is nodding. “I want us to be able to communicate. Anytime, all the time, not just for sex.”

“I like that so much, David, thank you. Thank you for making me listen.” Patrick is looking at him with big gooey heart eyes now. “I want to try that, learn that with you. God, David I…can I kiss you now?”

David smiles as he leans in. “Yes, please.”

Patrick tilts his head and cups David’s face. Their mouths come together and this kiss is full of possibilities. It’s full of hope and desire and maybe love, and probably love, and definitely love, and their future spins out around them. They kiss and kiss and it’s full and lush and urgent and delicious. It feels like the end of _before_ and the beginning of _now_ and they’re all in. All in.

_(Untitled (How does it feel) by D’Angelo)_

Patrick leans back and pulls David down with him. He pulls on David and shifts his body to get him fully on top of him and hums with pleasure. “You feel so good on me, David, my god.”

David is straddling one of Patrick’s legs. He’s cradling one hand behind Patrick’s head, the other hand is roaming his chest and kneading the muscles of his shoulder. He wants this to last and last. Patrick feels amazing beneath him. His athletic body radiates the desire to move, jump, grapple. Yet he’s pliant and soft, responsive but surrendering to David’s weight, to his touch.

Patrick’s hands are all over David. They run up and down his back, skimming over his ass, then back up to his neck and into his hair. He tugs on David’s hair gently, pulling him out of the kiss. David groans approvingly.

Patrick pulls him back in for a messy kiss then pulls him back by his hair again. Just a little harder. David’s eyes go a little dark. A throaty growl comes out of Patrick and he says, “I want your skin on my skin.” He pulls at David’s shirt.

David leans up off of Patrick using just his lower back muscles. Which gives him the ability to strip off his shirt with both hands and also grind his hips down into Patrick’s. Patrick groans. A sex drunk smile on his face. He arches up under David and strips off his own shirt. David lays back on top of him and they both sigh with pleasure.

Patrick’s skin is so beautiful and his chest and shoulders are so lovely and thick. David kisses across his jaw and scrapes his teeth along his collar bone. He presses his cheek to Patrick’s chest and inhales his scent. “You smell so good, Patrick, I could eat you alive.”

“I would like that.” Patrick breathes against the top of his head.

David lifts his head and looks at him through his dark lashes, “Patrick, are you saying what you want?” David smiles wolfishly and kisses a line down his chest and presses his tongue to a nipple. Patrick exhales loudly. David rolls his nipple between his teeth and bites down. Patrick gasps and arches his back, pressing his chest up for more.

“Yeah, please, that.”

David drags his teeth over his skin and bites his lowest rib.

Patrick yelps, “Ah! Yeah, fuck!”

Patrick grabs him under the arms and hauls him up. He wraps his arms around him, locks his ankles around David’s and flips them over.

David’s eyes roll up and flutter closed, he gasps, “Patrick—” Being manhandled turns him inside out. “I like—the flipping—moving me—.”

Patrick wraps one hand around the back of David’s neck and kisses him roughly, fucking his tongue into his mouth. He runs his other hand down his body and forces it under David’s ass. He squeezes and pulls up on David as he drives his hips down.

“Oh fuck yeah!” David gasps, surprised.

Patrick sits up suddenly, straddling David’s hips. He’s smiling in a way David has never seen before. His eyes are dark but that smile, he looks ravenous and fiercely happy. “Can we take this off? He tugs at the drawstring of David’s pants. David, mouth open, eyes hooded, just nods.

Patrick leans down and says hotly in his ear, “Yes or no, David. You said we need to communicate.”

How Patrick makes the word ‘communicate’ sound filthy is a mystery to David.

“Yes, Patrick.” David laughs.

He bucks his hips up hard and it throws Patrick off balance. David sits up and pushes him over sideways on the bed, where he lands, laughing up at David, his face so full of raw joy that David feels his throat tighten.

David flops back on his back and unties his pants. Patrick gets up and stands at the end of the bed with his hands on his belt. David pauses to see what he’s going to do but apparently Patrick’s going to watch him take his pants off. David takes a steadying breath. He lifts his hips and slides his pants down to his thighs, leaving his briefs on. He stops and waits. Patrick's eyes go dark and he grabs David by the ankles and drags him abruptly down the bed, drawing a startled moan out of David’s throat. Patrick takes hold of the bottom hem of David’s pants and pulls them off very, very, slowly.

David stays very still as Patrick just looks at him. “Are you— Are you okay, Patrick?”

It feels like Patrick is quiet for a long time before he says softly, “Yeah, I’m okay, David, more than okay. I just want to— Can I look at you? For a minute?”

“Y-yeah, you can. Look…”

Patrick’s face is soft, his eyes full of wonder, as they drift all over David’s body. He has never been looked at like this before. It’s exquisite. It’s torture. It makes him feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time. It occurs to David that Patrick has never had this, a man, in a bed, naked for him. The thought cracks him open. Tears threaten in his throat and he swallows hard and thinks, _I’m going to give him everything_.

David is about to speak when Patrick’s eyes dreamily wander up to his face. Soft smile, slow blink. Patrick unbuttons his jeans and takes them off. His hands come to the waistband of his boxer briefs but after a hesitation he leaves them on. He climbs on the bed between David’s feet and rests his hands on his calves.

“I’m just going to touch you?” Barely a whisper.

David breathes out shakily. It’s hard for him to understand how this is happening. He thought he’d had every possible sexual experience. But here’s Patrick, slowly taking him apart piece by piece, with just his reverent gaze and his soft requests. It’s the most intimate thing David has ever experienced.

He nods and whispers, “Mmhmm, yeah, yes.”

Patrick touches him the same way he had looked at him. Glacially slow. With excruciating attention. His hands skim over the tops of David’s feet and around to his calves. He kneads the heavy muscle, before running his fingers over the soft skin behind David’s knees, he hooks his hands there and pulls David’s knees up so his feet are flat on the bed. He runs his hands down the backs of his thighs. David shivers when he strokes his balls with the back of his hand. Patrick scoots forward until his thighs are bracketing David hips and David’s ass is practically in Patrick’s lap. His hands wander up and down the outside of his thighs, up and down the tops of his thighs.

Patrick runs his hands over David’s hips, rubbing his thumbs over the sharp knob of bone there. Patrick’s warm hand strokes up and down his dick a few times, his mouth slack, mesmerized, David gasps and trembles. Patrick moves on though, petting his stomach and squeezing his waist. Patrick spends a lot of time palming over his lower ribs on either side and over his pecs, letting his short nails scrape over his nipples. Patrick leans over him further and David’s thighs fall open. Patrick slides a hand up under David’s armpit and pushes his arm up over his head.

David is gazing up at him in wonder. Patrick is kneeling between his thighs now, leaning over him, holding himself up with one hand while the other finds its way up and down his arm and over David’s shoulder, down his chest again then back up. Patrick cups David’s cheek and rains kisses on his face. David’s eyes prickle with tears, his throat aches. Patrick is discovering him, savoring him. It hurts. It’s transcendent.

“ _Patrick_ —” David’s voice is rough.

Patrick meets his eyes and gently lowers his body onto David’s. His eyes roll up and close, but he leans in and kisses him. Softly, softly. They grind against each other, slow rolls.

David wraps himself around him. He buries his face in his neck and kisses him there gently. He’s never felt anything like this, rough, then gentle, it’s so good. He doesn’t remember ever wanting someone so much, being so hard, so turned on and then there’s this other thing, this new thing that is so much more than bodies seeking pleasure.

“Patrick. Patrick.” David can’t find any other words. Something immense is unfolding in his chest. It seeps through his skin and fills the room. “Patrick, my god, Patrick.” He’s whimpering now and clutching Patrick hard against him.

Patrick looks at his face and kisses the wetness on David’s temple. “You’re so beautiful.” Patrick whispers in his ear then nips his earlobe. David can hear him inhaling through his nose. Patrick is smelling him and it’s too much, too good, too overwhelming. David skims his hands over Patrick’s back and slides them over and squeezes his ass where it meets the top of the thigh.

“David, I want. I don’t know. What.” Patrick breathes soft and hungry words into David’s neck. “I don’t know what to do David, I want you. I want you.”

David brings his hands to Patrick’s hips and pushes at his briefs. “Can we take these off?”

“Yeah, yes, please.” Patrick rolls off of him and strips off his blue boxer briefs.

David gets up and gets a bottle of lube from his bag and tosses it on the bed. Then he strips off his briefs and climbs back on the bed. He sits on his heels between Patrick’s knees. Patrick is watching him with huge, dark eyes.

“What can we do, David? I want— I’m so— I don’t—” Patrick’s voice shakes. His eyes are kind of bouncing around. David can see Patrick’s nerves are fraying.

David crawls up his body and settles his weight on Patrick. “How’s this?”

“Uuuuh, god, David, your cock, your cock on my...uuh god.” Patrick’s hips stutter.

David kisses him and says softly, “We can do this Patrick, just this.” He grinds down and Patrick groans. “It will feel so good and we can just do this. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, so good, David, yeah.”

David kneels up and pours lube into his hand. Patrick’s eyes follow the motion of his hand as he rubs it on his lower belly and cock. David reaches for him and Patrick hisses with pleasure when the cool lube touches the heat of his hardness. David lays back on top of Patrick. Their cocks slide slickly together and Patrick’s head pitches back against the pillows and he lets loose a long moan. He grips David’s ass and thrusts against him. David rolls his hips down to meet him and his own eyes flutter closed. Patrick thrusts up again and wraps one arm around David’s back, the other around his neck.

He’s pressing his face to David’s neck and panting in his ear. “God, David— incredible— ahh— god— feel— so— good— kiss me— David.” So David does.

David is transported. This simple act feels incredibly intimate. This type of fucking feels like sweet, Sunday morning kind of sex. Not a thing he experienced very often, if ever. And doing this with Patrick is unbearably beautiful.

Patrick maneuvers around and slowly rolls them over. David goes willingly, pulling Patrick on top. Patrick braces his hands on either side of David’s head and looks into his eyes. He’s thrusting against David with deliciously slow, long, rolls of his hips. His eyes are dark and so soft.

“David, I— I’m— David this is...”

“I know, baby, I know.” David wraps his arms around his ribs and pulls him down, clinging to his shoulders.

Patrick falls on him, kissing his mouth and jaw. He licks and kisses down David’s throat and sucks a mark on his collar bone. Their thrusts are growing more urgent. David reaches between them and wraps his big hand around both of their cocks. Patrick grunts and thrusts hard.

“Oh my god, David. I’m gonna—” He goes still, pressing his forehead into David’s.

“Yeah, Patrick, come with me, come with me.”

Patrick’s hips snap forward. And again. Then he’s rutting into David’s hand, snapping his hips, hard and fast, and grunting on every thrust. David matches his rhythm and hangs on for dear life.

Patrick moans “God I’m —” He buries his face in David’s neck and he comes, hips driving David into the mattress.

He wails, his voice ragged and wavering, “Oh god! Daaaa-vid!”

Patrick bites down on his shoulder. Hard. David cries out and comes. A long, rough moan pours out of David’s mouth. His head is thrown back on the pillow, one hand still trapped between them, the other holding the back of Patrick’s head. Patrick’s face is still pressed into his neck, holding him strong as the last tremor of his orgasm shakes though him.

When the fog clears from David’s brain, a huge smile spreads across his face. He pulls his sticky hand out from between them and clasps his arms around Patrick’s back and hugs him tight. He turns his face into Patrick’s neck and rains kisses there.

David whispers, “Oh my god, Patrick!”

Patrick’s shoulders are shaking, his teeth are clamped on David’s shoulder, there will be marks there for a long time. He gives it a light suck before kissing up David’s neck. His breath is coming out in hot little puffs against David’s skin.

David pushes him back to see his face. “Hey, are you alri—”

Patrick’s eyes are wet but he’s grinning. He’s laughing. “My god, David! I didn’t know—Jesus fucking Christ— I didn’t know it could feel like this, be so— I’m so—” He presses his smile to David’s smile and their teeth clack together and they dissolve into giggles

“Patrick, this is—I’ve never had—”

They’re both out of coherent words so they stay quiet for a while, breathing each other in.

Finally, David says quietly, “I love lying here under you, baby, but we need to clean up or we’ll be stuck together.”

Patrick wiggles his body and burrows back into his neck, and says, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

David groans, “It will be a bad thing. Dried come in body hair is gross.”

Patrick huffs and grumbles and rolls off of him and heads for the bathroom. “I call dibs on first shower for making me move.”

David rolls his eyes and calls out at the closing door, “‘K, I’m ordering a pizza.”

*

David comes out of the bathroom wearing light grey sleep pants and a white t-shirt. Patrick is at the door, paying the delivery guy. When he sees him, he sets the pizza box on the table and walks to David. He wraps his arms around his waist and tilts his face up for a kiss. David is happy to oblige. Then Patrick does that thing he does, the thing that delights and embarrasses David, that thing where he’s talking and kissing at the same time.

“This is so nice David.” _kiss_ ”You think we can pay Stevie,” _kiss_ “to trade with you? Like,” _kiss_ “she stays at the motel and,” _kiss_ “we, stay here?”

David chuckles and tips his head back and says to the ceiling “Well, one, there’s not enough money in the world to make Stevie sleep in the same room as Alexis. And TWO, it’s a little soon to be talking about cohabitation don’t you think?”

David’s tone is light and teasing, he knows Patrick isn’t seriously talking about that. But when he looks back at him, Patrick has those big, puppy eyes on him and a terribly fond smile on his face. But he doesn’t say anything. Just smiles that fond smile and blinks his puppy eyes and gives David another kiss and pulls him by the hand to sit and eat pizza. It all does things to David’s insides.

They eat pizza and drink wine and talk about everything and nothing. Then they clean up the remains of dinner. After, Patrick pulls David by the hand back to Stevie’s bed and they lie on their sides, facing each other, both propping up their heads on their hands.

Patrick takes a breath to speak but doesn’t. Instead he cups David’s cheek. He runs his hand over his shoulder and down his arm to toy with the rings on his fingers. Then he rolls onto his back and sighs. He’s pulled David’s hand onto his chest and he just presses it there with both hands.

David is about to say something when Patrick finally speaks. “Thank you David.”

“For what?”

“This. You. Everything.” He kisses David’s palm.

David scoots over and leans his arm on Patrick’s chest, resting his chin on it so he can look at him.

“Well, fortunately, I’m a very generous person.” David is quirking his mouth hard to the left, trying to hide the very pleased smile that wants to crack him open.

Patrick chuckles and says, “And thank you, Patrick, for making me come so hard I howled like an animal.”

“A bold claim.” David flops over on his back, smiling at the ceiling, because Patrick did indeed make him howl. Goddamn.

“Not just a claim. I was there, David.”

“Yes you were, I’m just surprised you could hear me, you know, over the sounds you were making…”

“Hmmm. We made good sounds, David.” Patrick rolls on top of David and kisses him wetly.

“Mmmmm, we did.” He holds Patrick’s face and kisses him back.

Patrick feels different somehow, under David’s hands. He’s much more relaxed, less hesitant. Something has been unlocked and he’s just here now. He’s feeling David up like he owns him. Hands up and down David’s chest, stroking his cheek, running roughly through his hair. The initial exploration is over and now he’s making a detailed map of David. David is reveling in the attention. Patrick slips a hand under David’s t-shirt and pinches a nipple and grinds against him.

David gasps and arches up, then deftly flips them over. Patrick huffs out a breathy laugh in surprise.

He holds himself over Patrick, a hand on either side of his head. He says softly, “Patrick, what do you want?”

“You, David, you.” Patrick holds his face and pulls him down to kiss him again but David resists, smiling.

“And you have me, baby. I’m here. In this bed with you.” He dips his head down and kisses him filthily. “What. Do you. Want?”

Patrick responds by grabbing a handful of David’s hair, pulling him down and kissing him forcefully, pressing his hips up to grind into David. David moans low in his throat. Patrick pulls him out of the kiss by his hair and says, “David, I want you in my mouth. I wanna suck your cock.” Holy shit. There he is, the guy that can talk dirty.

Patrick runs his hands under David’s t-shirt and wrestles it over his head and off. David leans away while Patrick strips off his own shirt and sails it across the room. Patrick strokes and kneads the muscles down David’s back, pressing down on his lower back and slipping beneath David’s briefs. Patrick’s hand pauses, then he squeezes the flesh of his ass. David grinds down hard then rolls onto his back. Patrick rolls to follow but David has hooked his thumbs into his briefs and sleep pants and is pulling them down. He lifts his legs to pull them off but Patrick is there, doing it for him.

He lies back down and Patrick is all over him. Patrick kisses him messily, he licks along his jaw and breathes hotly in David’s ear. “I want your come all over me, David.”

David moans and writhes under Patrick, as he drags his teeth down his throat. He licks a line along David’s collarbone and continues the onslaught, sucking one nipple roughly into his mouth, while pinching the other. Then scratching his nails down his ribs. David is losing his mind. He arches up under Patrick’s mouth and groans his name. Patrick runs the flat of his tongue down the trail of hair on his belly and stops, gripping his hips hard. His mouth is so close to his cock that David can feel the heat of his breath.

Then Patrick’s mouth is on him. Just the head but he’s swirling his tongue around and around it, dipping into the slit, lapping at the pre come. He pulls off and breathes, “Goddamn, you taste so fucking good.” Then he sucks David’s cock into his mouth about halfway down. David groans loudly and clutches his shoulders. Patrick wraps his hand around the base, and moves it up and down with the short strokes he’s able to take. Patrick is drooling, his hand and mouth are uncoordinated, inexperienced and utterly, incandescently hot. David is already close.

“I’m… gonna... come soon... Patrick.” David is panting and squirming and it’s unbelievable, it’s so incredible to have this man on him, on him, _on him_ like this; ravenous, insatiable, humming with pleasure.

Patrick pulls off his cock with a filthy slurp and says, “Come then, I want you to come on me, come on my face.”

David’s whole body spasms at that because _Jesus Fuck_. Patrick rolls to the side, hauling David by the hip. He angles his head and body so David can see. God, he wants David to see. Patrick has lost focus and his hand is loose and uncoordinated. David reaches down to jack himself, mesmerized by how unleashed Patrick is, with his eyes closed and his mouth open, tongue out and flat waiting for David’s come.

“Jesus Christ, Patrick!” David’s voice breaks. He’s thrusting into one hand and gripping the back of Patrick’s neck with the other.

Patrick reaches up and caresses David’s balls, one finger presses his perineum. David’s hips jerk, his voice is high and raspy, “I’m gonna— I’m—”

David looks down. Patrick has opened his eyes and is looking right into him. He growls, “Do it.” David thrusts into his hand and cries out. He comes. And comes. And comes. He fights the urge to throw back his head and squeeze his eyes closed. He wants to see Patrick, how gorgeously debauched he looks with come painting ribbons across his cheek, in his mouth, on his tongue. David taps his cock on Patrick’s tongue and Patrick groans and laps at it.

David gasps loudly, “Goddamn, Patrick Fuck! Look at you! How are you like this?!”

Patrick smiles wolfishly and says hoarsely, “You and your cock is how I'm like this.” And closes his lips around the head of David’s cock and sucks the last bit of come out of him noisily. David’s laughter at Patrick’s comment turns into an indecent yelp and he shivers violently.

By the time David comes back to earth Patrick has turned on his back. He’s groaning and gripping the base of his dick. David climbs over his body and hovers over him. Patrick’s eyes are heavy lidded and wanting. David licks the stripe of his own come off of Patrick’s cheek and Patrick grunts like he’s been punched. He grabs David’s head with both hands and kisses him aggressively, chasing the taste of David’s come.

Patrick reaches between them for his own cock again and David bats his hand away. “Oh, no. No, no. I’m gonna suck that gorgeous cock right now.”

A high raspy moan escapes Patrick’s lips as David makes his way down his torso. David scoots himself between Patrick’s legs and presses his face into the crease of his thigh. He inhales deeply and gazes at his hard, twitching cock.

“My god, Patrick, you’re gorgeous, you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” He kisses the base and then drags the flat of his tongue from base to tip. Patrick swears and throws his head back on the pillows.

David’s good at this. David knows he’s good at this, and he plans to wreck Patrick right now. He takes his time, laving his tongue over Patrick’s balls. Patrick’s thighs are already shaking and he’s whining, high and breathy. When David licks over his perineum, the tip of his tongue just grazing his rim, Patrick’s upper body lifts off the bed and drops back down. He makes an atavistic noise, his hands gripping the sheets in tight fists.

“Ah my gaaw, Dav— uh!”

David is so gratified by how barely coherent he’s rendered Patrick. He says all low and sultry, “Yeah, lover, what is it?” He starts lightly stroking Patrick’s twitching erection.

Patrick gasps and grabs David by the hair. He pulls his head back and forces him to look up at him. _Fuck_. David moans, eyes rolling back, his tired dick is stirring, _again_. When David meets Patrick’s eyes, what he sees is electrifying. Patrick looks nothing like the buttoned up business major he met six months ago. Patrick looks like an animal right now. He is showing his teeth in a way that’s half way between a savage smile and a feral snarl, he looks ferocious and starving. His eyes are laser focused and David is pinned in place by the intensity.

Patrick growls in a voice David has never heard before, guttural and breathy, “Suck my cock, David.”

David is panting. “Oh I’m going to.”

He holds the base of Patrick’s cock and opens his mouth. He pauses, looking into Patrick’s eyes and just breathing hot, wet air on the head. Patrick’s eyes are full and flaming. For an instant, Patrick smiles sweetly, a fleeting signal that he’s all in. David gasps and feels his entire being expanding with joy. A sound erupts from David’s throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob and he drops all the way down on Patrick’s cock. The head hits the back of his throat drawing a sharp gasping moan from Patrick’s chest.

Patrick heaves in a deep breath and David’s name comes out of him like an ancient song. David hollows his cheeks and slowly draws his hot, silky mouth up Patrick’s gorgeous girth. Lavishing his tongue around and around the rim before sucking hard and fast all the way down again. Letting the head bump the back of his throat again and again. Patrick is falling apart in the most gorgeous way. He bucks and squirms and shivers and David’s arm is locked over his hips and the other wrapped around his thick thigh. And the sounds coming out of Patrick are turning David inside out. High raspy moans, followed by short panting breaths, guttural grunts, and he sings David’s name, and ‘oh’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’. Over and over and over until he’s grasping at David’s shoulders and neck.

“I’m gonna—” is all he can articulate before his hips snap up and shudder, Patrick moans, graveled and ragged. His back arching. He thrusts up again, so hard, shuddering, shuddering. One last hard thrust and he’s holding David’s neck and shoulder and his body is curled almost in half and he’s practically sobbing. David swallows everything, everything, everything that Patrick gives him.

Patrick falls back on the bed and throws his arms over his face, chanting, high and breathy, “David. David. David.” David crawls up his body and stretches out on top of him, reveling in the feel of Patrick’s sweaty body, vibrating with aftershocks. Patrick’s arms come up around him immediately and wrap him up completely. He pulls a leg out from under David and wraps that around him too. He’s holding him so tight, so close and David is blissed out. He feels Patrick shaking under him. David grins when he sees that Patrick is laughing, joy pouring out of him.

“God fucking damn, David. I’m so gay! I’m so, SO, fucking gay!” Patrick is laughing, full and beautiful.

David sinks into the sound, laughing too. “Good to know, baby, good to know.”

They’ve gotten cleaned up and ready for bed. They’re on their sides, facing each other, neither willing to give the night up to sleep.

“I thought about what you said.” David doesn’t know a better way to bring it up.

“What did I say?” Patrick’s face is open and curious. David’s heart stutters at his simple beauty. God.

“It was that first day we, you know, kissed and stuff? In the back room?”

“Mmhm, I think I said a bunch of things that day.”

“You said that everybody is broken.” David keeps his eyes on Patrick.

“Oh. Yeah. I did say that.” His face is still open and warm.

“Do you believe it?”

“I do.” Patrick smiles then. Patrick smiles as if brokenness isn’t something to hide or be ashamed of. And if David feels his heart bloom open any further for this man he will surely die.

“So. You think you’re broken.”

“Oh absolutely David, I’m broken.” He’s still _smiling_.

“But. In what way? You seem so— I don’t know— good?”

“David, I didn’t realize I’m gay until _this fucking year_. You don’t think there’s some damage that made it take so long? And that’s just one thing! Truly, I’m broken in myriad ways. You are too!”

Tears unexpectedly fill David’s eyes. “And that’s okay?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s okay.” His tone is so tender. David keeps his eyes on Patrick’s eyes and when Patrick reaches his hand out to cup his face David leans into it like a cat, pressing his cheek into his warm palm. Patrick scoots closer and wraps his hand around the back of David’s head and kisses him gently.

“What do you think about it, love?” David’s heart stutters. Patrick says the endearment so casually and he waits for David’s answer as if he hadn’t just said something monumental.

David takes a shaky breath. “I just thought about it a lot. My own brokenness, I’ve been ashamed of it, thought I didn’t have the right to be— I don’t know, it just never occurred to me that everybody is broken. And that I don’t, I don’t have to, like, hide it.”

“Hm, I guess you can try to hide it but I hope you don’t.” He runs his fingers through David’s hair, messing it up, smoothing it down, curling it around his fingers. Again, something so casually intimate that comes so easily to Patrick pulls relentlessly on David’s heart.

“You hope I don’t? Why—?”

“David.” Patrick kisses him again, slow and wet. “David don’t hide your brokenness, it’s beautiful. And real, so real. All of it—”

David interrupts him. “I thought being broken made me an asshole!”

Patrick laughs softly, “Well, it does. Sometimes. That’s the nature of brokenness, yeah? That sometimes we cut people with our jagged edges. But sometimes brokenness serves to make people really compassionate,” he strokes David’s temple, “and kind,” thumbs over his cheekbone, “and caring,” cups David’s cheek. “That’s you.”

David is taken aback. “But I—”

Patrick isn’t having it. “David, your brokenness is what makes you so sharp and funny and quick and vulnerable and kind and warm and it’s gorgeous. It’s so fucking gorgeous David. You, you take my breath away. And sometimes—” Patrick stalls out.

David is squirming inside with the words that come out of Patrick so easily. He’s taking him apart. Again. With his simple openness and staggering words. He waits for Patrick to continue. He really hopes Patrick will continue.

Patrick is quiet, his eyes are up in David’s hair, watching his fingers tug at the strands and run down over his ear. He runs a finger tip along David’s jaw and then strokes his lower lip. Pulling it down then leaning in to suck on it. David gives in to the kiss. Fucked out Patrick smells so good and he wants to drown in all of this. He licks into Patrick’s mouth, pulling a groan from him. They kiss slow and lazy for a minute.

But David thinks Patrick’s thoughts are something he wants to drown in too, so he pulls back and says, “And sometimes? Patrick?”

Patrick looks into his eyes and haltingly continues, “And sometimes, two people’s jagged edges fit... together as, as smoothly as puzzle pieces,” he blows out a soft slow breath, like he’s getting ready to dive off a high cliff, “and even if the picture isn’t seamless, they’re stronger together. They make a more solid surface on which to paint...whatever they like…”

The last of the precipice drops away and David falls. He thought he’d be scared, but he’s not. Not at all. David is in love, utterly and completely in love, with Patrick.

David is staring at him open mouthed. Patrick is talking about them. They are stronger and more solid together, as mismatched as they seem. As differently broken as they are. They fit. David is gobsmacked. His brain is not screaming. His heart isn’t pounding with fear. It’s thumping gently and surely and expanding through the walls of his chest. _I love him. I really love him._

Patrick cups David’s face and presses their foreheads together. He takes a shivery breath. “And. I know it’s too soon but—”

_Oh my god_

“David. I, I’m in—”

_Oh my god_

There’s a long quiet pause. Patrick’s sweet amber eyes are searching David’s face. David knows what he’s looking for. Permission to say it. And god, David wants to hear it. He’s not afraid. Patrick makes him brave. He projects all the soft openness he can muster. _Tell me._

“David your gorgeous jagged pieces happen to fit together with my jagged pieces. And I’m in —”

David's throat aches with tears. He hardly needs to hear the other words, those three words. Their jagged pieces fit. Simple. Profound. David stares at Patrick, spellbound. Patrick’s eyelashes are wet. His breath shivers in and out of his lungs, he’s shaking. David pulls his body as close as he can. He puts his hand over Patrick’s hand on his cheek and presses, then picks it up and kisses his palm, the inside of his wrist.

He kisses his lips several times and says, “Patrick.”

Patrick closes his eyes and breathes, “I’m in love with you David.” Patrick pauses and opens his eyes. He continues slowly, “I’m in love with every broken piece of you.”

It’s a whisper. A quiet breeze of a proclamation but it slams through David like a freight train. _Every broken piece of you_. He thought he was ready, thought he didn’t even need to hear it, knew the truth of it in his heart. But the words are out in the world now. Huge. Real. True. A flash of heat ignites under his skin and his whole body tingles for a moment. _I love you too!_ His eyes are squeezed shut. _I love you too_! He stays in the dark for a moment letting Patrick’s words fill him up. When he opens his eyes Patrick is looking into him and he looks excited and terrified and utterly, completely, in love.

“Pat—” David’s throat locks up.

There are too many tears in there for proper speech. He closes his eyes again.

Patrick speaks softly, “I’m sorry, I know it’s too soon, I know it’s a lot. You don’t have to say anything David. I’m just, I’m—” He’s starting to sound worried.

David’s voice rasps around the tears in his throat. “You’re the gold.”

“What?” Patrick’s voice, hopeful, fearful, vulnerable.

“You’re the gold, Patrick, you’re the gold.”

Patrick is quiet. Their hands are entwined between them. Patrick kisses David’s knuckle and he waits.

David keeps his eyes closed. He clears his throat and says, “When I was in Japan I learned about this thing called Kintsugi.” He breathes. Breathes. “They fix broken pottery with a lacquer mixed with gold.” The sob builds in his throat, his voice is high and strained. “They join the pieces together with seams of gold Patrick.” Three short shaky inhales. David holds his breath. He breathes out in a rush, “It honors the history of the piece rather than trying to disguise—” He breaks then. “It makes the breaks beautiful. You're the gold, you're the...” He can no longer form words. 

Patrick wraps himself around David then, whispering into his hair, “Ssshhh, baby, _you’re the gold_ , David, you’re _my_ gold.” His voice soft, reverent.

They kiss the tears off one another’s cheeks, neither of them can produce words now. They kiss tears and lips and fall into each other’s eyes until their lids grow heavy.

They hold each other this way until they drift into sleep.

_David stands on a high ridge, a lush green valley stretches out below him. There’s a soft breeze silky against his skin. He feels good. He feels sweet and full and whole._

_Adelina’s voice rings like an echo around him, “Doce David! You found it! O amor da sua vida! I’m so happy for you!”_

_David is so happy to hear her voice that he turns around to find her but he sees Patrick instead, kneeling on a blanket. “What’s happen—”_

David’s eyes open in the dim light of very early morning. Patrick is curled against his back, his arm heavy on David’s ribs, his hand relaxed on the mattress in front of David’s chest. He savors the soft primal moment before his brain comes completely online.

_Patrick loves me._

David softly inhales and smiles. He gently pulls Patrick’s hand against his chest. Patrick stirs and snuffles at the back of his neck before going quiet again. David smiles. And smiles. And smiles until he feels like his face will split.

_Patrick loves me and I love him._

_I didn’t tell him I love him!_

The thought pops David into wakefulness. This will not do. He has to tell him.

Before it can scare him. Before he can entertain thoughts that he doesn’t deserve it. Before the wasps wake up, David rolls under Patrick’s arm until he’s facing him.

Patrick’s eyes flutter open, and he murmurs, “Y’okay?” A warm smile pulls on his mouth and he says “David,” with a happy sigh.

David presses his lips to his cheekbone, his temple and then presses them against his ear.

“Patrick.” He whispers.

“Mmm?”

David pours his whole heart into his words. “I’m in love with you, too.”

“I love you, David, love you, loveyouloveyou” Patrick’s words blur together sleepily. He pulls David close and sighs deeply.

David thinks nothing could be more perfect than this soft moment in this velvety grey light. He feels warm and right and whole. He waits to freak out about saying _I love you_ out loud for only like the fourth time in his life. But nothing happens.

Something does happen though. David can feel it, as sleep pulls his awareness inward. Liquid warmth pours into the cracks of his broken heart and the fissures in his shattered spirit fill with golden light. Because it’s not just being loved that makes one whole, but allowing oneself to love in return. And in this warmth, in this golden light, David’s brokenness begins, at last, to heal.

_(You are Gold by The National Parks)_

_***_


End file.
